It Could Have Been You
by x-Avarice-x
Summary: A benevolent Master. A tyrannical Doctor. What would have happened all those years ago if the Doctor had been the one cursed with the drums instead of the Master?
1. Prologue

Author Note: This is an AU fic. I consulted with multiple other Whovians on their opinions of this idea to help me form it. So, big thanks goes out to Ace of Gallifrey and Aietradaea and anyone else I forgot who helped me.

**Disclaimer****: **I do not own Doctor Who. If I did, The Master would currently be ravaging the stars.

* * *

"Theta! Theta, wake up!"

Theta Sigma groaned and pulled the blanket over his head; it was far too early to wake up. The oppressive light from the twin Suns was shining on his face, no thanks to the Time Lord child next to his bed who had unceremoniously pulled back the shade.

"Theta! You have to get up! We're already late!" Koschei grabbed the other boy's blanketed shoulder and shook it roughly.

Theta huffed and threw the blanket off, sitting up with messied hair and a glare for his best friend. "I don't want to go," he announced, slipping off the bed and onto the floor.

"Yes you do, everyone does! Come on, don't be like that! Theta!" Theta had trudged to the lavatory and promptly shut the door in his friend's face.

Koschei huffed quietly. He knew Theta was scared about today. Today was his- _their_ day to stand in front of the Untempered Schism. They didn't have the same birthday; Koschei was exactly three days older. However, he had been ill three days ago, the first time he could ever remember being so, and could not attend the ceremony. The Elders had decided that both ceremonies on the same day would be prudent, since Koschei was already three days late on his own.

"Theta, hurry up! Ushas is going to laugh as us if she finds out we were late- Oh!"

Theta opened the door, already dressed in his school uniform. "Well?" he asked, mimicking his friend's earlier impatience. "Are we going or not?"

Koschei grinned and they ran out the front door of Theta's house, his mother yelling goodbye from the kitchen.

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The Citadel of the Time Lords was a grand structure. It gleamed in the light of the twin Suns and spread its power over all of Gallifrey, covering the red grass and silver trees with the wisdom of the Time Lord race.

Koschei and Theta raced through the red grass toward school, feeling the wind toss the plants every which way. The Academy would be their place tomorrow, once they had been initiated into the ranks of the Time Lords of old, but for today they would be meeting their teachers in the Hall of Ascendancy for their ceremonies. Theta knew his father was already there, as was Koschei's, in preparation for the day. He was nervous down to his bones, but Koschei seemed to be as excited as he could be. They had been taught little about the Untempered Schism, only that it was the key to their future and they were now both eight years old; today was Theta's birthday.

"Oh, Theta!" Koschei suddenly stopped in his tracks, trampling over a particularly nice patch of flowers. "I forgot! It's your birthday, I have something for you!"

"For me?" Theta blinked. He wasn't expecting anything. Oh, he'd gotten Koschei something for his birthday, but he wasn't expecting anything in return.

"You don't turn eight every year you know!" Koschei replied, as if that was the most important thing in the world. He held out his hands with a grin and Theta smiled, the first smile that had graced his face that day. He put his hands in Koschei's and they stood in the red grass, foreheads pressed together.

Theta gasped aloud as the memory passed from one to the other and Koschei just grinned. "You broke into the archive!" Theta said in wonder.

"Father didn't see me, I promise," he said, both pairs of eyes closed. Koschei's father was Lord Oakdown, the head of a prominent Gallifreyan house. The young Time Lord knew his father didn't like that he was friends with Theta; there was something about Theta's house, Lungbarrow, that meant he was lower in stature than Koschei. The older child thought it was nonsense. Houses didn't matter; he was Koschei and Theta was Theta and that was that. That's how it would always be.

Theta fell silent in sheer wonder. Koschei had broken into his father's library, into the Archive, and watched images saved from his own father's TARDIS, images that he was not allowed to see. The scenes were beautiful; nebulae reaching light years across, bright bursts of light from suns and moons, supernovas shining like beacons to weary travelers. The memory lasted several moments and when it passed, Theta had the same grin on his face as Koschei. "I can't believe it! Thank you! This makes my present seem silly..."

"Nonsense!" Koschei declared. "I love it!" Theta's present had been a story, captured in a small wooden carving that his father had helped him make. It was an oak tree with its roots tangled in the wheels of a wheel barrow, a play on both of their house names. The carving sat wheel barrow upside down, so that the tree was standing upright correctly. Koschei had giggled and said he could never remember ever standing on the other boy's feet. Before leaving, he had set the carving on its side, that neither of the two parts was above the other.

"I'm glad," Theta said. "But are you sure your dad won't find out?"

"If he does, then he does," Koschei decided. "I don't care. It was worth it."

They grinned and ran off in the direction of the Hall.

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In the Hall of Ascendancy, Borusa could feel time bending around him.

It was a feeling that he had only felt a handful of times. It was never good.

Waiting with the boys for the rest of the ceremony members was stifling. Koschei and Theta had burst in fifteen minutes ago, chatting excitedly, likely about something that they weren't supposed to know, but he couldn't pay attention. Something caught his eye out the nearby window. He turned to look and froze.

There was a man, a Time Lord, standing right outside. He wore a suit of a color that Borusa could not determine in the light from the suns. He could, however, discern that the trenchcoat the man had his hands in was brown. He had dark, spiky hair and a maniacal smile, one that unnerved the teacher greatly. His eyes were old, but nothing else gave away his age. The image briefly flickered and Borusa realized that it was a hologram or projection. But the man was staring right at him.

The smile faded from the hologram's face and, slowly, turned his head to look at the two boys chatting away. He watched them with a cold stare, then grinned and raised his eyes to meet Borusa's once more. With a nod of his head, he gestured to Koschei, the eldest of the two. _"Him first." _The malevolent grin stayed with Borusa long after the hologram had blinked out of existence.

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The two boys were taken to the Untempered Schism a time later, after everyone had arrived. Borusa could feel the threads of time, stronger now than before. The malevolent hologram was vivid and frightening, though now just a memory. Perhaps he had imagined it.

All the same, when it was time for the first boy to stand in front of the Schism, he quietly spoke to the other adults around, suggesting that it was only fair for Theta to go first, since it _was_ his birthday today.

Koschei could wait. The older boy nodded, saying as such, completely unfazed. He didn't mind; Theta was his best friend after all, and he had been scared. All the more reason to get it over with quickly.

Borusa gently guided Theta away, unaware of the threads of time that were now locked in place and the horrors he had unknowingly caused.

* * *

Woot! Hooray for the start of another story! This story is going to end up being very dark, so if you like darkness, stick around.

Also, if there's something in here about Theta/Koschei that is incorrect, please let me know. Thanks! Reviews are loved!


	2. Utopia

Author Note: For clarification purposes, this chapter begins right at the beginning of "Utopia" in the real Doctor Who universe. Areas in full italics are flashbacks or memories. Reviews are loved!

* * *

"You still haven't told me," she said, leaning back against the console.

"That's because you don't need to know," the Master replied, in a sarcastically cheery voice. He was flipping switches and pulling levers here and there. His TARDIS spun calmly through the Time Vortex, like an Earth breeze on a warm spring day. Stuck as a police box, much to his dismay.

"Oh come on!" She crossed her arms grumpily. "Stuck in 1969 without a TARDIS? You made me get a job!"

"I got one too!" he said defensively, flipping a rather large lever to his right. "A bus driver. Me, a Time Lord, as a bus driver!"

"Well, excuse me!" she said, drawing her head back indignantly. "At least you didn't have to deal with all the racism..."

"Martha," he said impatiently, leaning both hands on the console in front of him. "It isn't my fault that the human race is full of stubborn gits who care more about someone's skin color than their mind."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied, to which he rolled his eyes and landed the TARDIS.

"Where are we?" she asked, walking away from the console.

"Cardiff," he replied, running around the machine, opening the engines. "Need to refuel."

"There's fuel in Cardiff?" she asked, incredulous.

"There's a rift in Cardiff," he replied grumpily. "I can open the engines and use that."

"I see," she replied, still confused. He was always grumpy. Last of the Time Lords would do that, she supposed. She didn't know why exactly he was the last of the Time Lords. All he would say is that there was a war and they lost.

"Alright, time to go," he said quickly, ignoring the image of a certain captain on the TARDIS's screen.

"That quick?" she asked. "Short pit stop."

Suddenly, the machine gave a huge lurch, catapulting Martha toward the railing, which she grabbed. The TARDIS felt like it was tumbling through thin air and about to crash on cement. She felt like she was going to be sick. "Master? What's going on?"

The Master was clinging to the bottom of the console, hands gripping the sides. "We're traveling through time!" he shouted sarcastically.

"I know that!" she yelled back, furrowing her eyebrows.

He almost sighed. "There's something on the outside of the TARDIS! She's trying to shake it off!"

"What is it?" Martha made her way over to him as the machine gave another lurch and hundreds of sparks exploded from the console.

"I have a theory!" he yelled back. He held his hand out and pulled her next to him, a protective gesture even if he'd never admit it in a million years. He did enjoy Martha's company, which is something he would also never admit in a million years. "We're flying forward to the year..." He snuck a glance at the screen. "What? 100 trillion?"

"What?" she yelled, hand over her face as more sparks flew.

"The end of the universe!" he replied, a small grin gracing his face. Martha yelped in fright as the TARDIS threw them further and further into the future.

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The machine landed with a thud. They cautiously stood from the floor where they had landed, Martha very aware that the Master was still grasping her hand protectively. He dropped it without a second thought and began scanning the area. There was a short pause before his preliminary scan was complete. "Malcassairo, year 100 trillion."

"100 trillion?" she echoed, slightly disappointed at the lack of hand-holding. She liked the Master. She didn't love him, though she was sure there was something more appealing deep down that perhaps spoke of a much kinder Time Lord. He never showed it, though. Well, rarely. Those rare times were few and far between.

She had almost refused his offer of traveling. It had been odd since they had left; everywhere they went, he seemed to be looking for someone. There was always a sound, a beat of four, something that he claimed would help him find whoever he was looking for. He had been traveling for a long time, but there hadn't even been a clue. In the meantime, however, he always ended up saving a planet or some such thing. Time lines, he always said, things that had to happen and things that didn't. She had a suspicion it was a bit more than that, though he never let on.

_"What kind of a name is that?" she said, scrunching up her nose. "The Master?"  
"The Master of the universe," he said with a bit of a grin.  
"So what, you're a... megalomaniac who wants to take over everything?"  
"Of course not. Why would I want this universe full of bloody morons? No, the Master is just my name. Master protector, if you need a definition."  
"So you save people?"  
"If time says I have to."_

"We should go," he said, over the hum of the time machine. "The end of the universe is a dangerous place."

"You've been here before?" she asked, looking at the screen.

"Never," he replied. "However, I happen to know that it's cold."

"Cold?"

There came a sudden, insistent knocking on the TARDIS door that made Martha jump. "What the-"

"Oh great." The Master sighed and tiredly trudged down the ramp to the door, ignoring the pleased hum of the TARDIS. He kept forgetting to change this bloody coral desktop theme. He much preferred stairs. And she was too blue on the inside.

The door swung open and a man stood there, brown hair with a large pack on his back, looking rather angry. "You mother-"

"Now, now Jack, no swearing in front of the lady," the Time Lord insisted, gesturing back to Martha, who was trying to see who exactly was outside. "Where are your manners?"

Jack scoffed. "Manners, with you? Now I've seen everything." He practically pushed his way into the TARDIS, looking around. "Old girl hasn't changed a bit. Except for you, of course," he said, sidling his way up to Martha. "Hello there. Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"

"Oh come off it, she doesn't want to pollinate with you," the Master said, back at the console.

"Speak for yourself, mate," Martha said, blushing a bit as they shook hands. "Wait, you know the Master?"

"That I do, little missy. Traveled with him for a while, in fact. Before he _abandoned_ me-"

"Oh right, like you couldn't take care of yourself." The Master paused in his scans to give Jack a scrutinizing look.

"You left me alone on a satellite!"

"You have your time hopper! You were fine. And by the way, don't cling to the outside of my TARDIS like that again. Gives the old girl heartburn," he said, patting the console almost fondly.

"You were the one on the outside," Martha said in realization. "So you came with us from the 21st Century."

"That's right," Jack replied, nodding toward the Master. "Been looking for this one forever."

"And you found me, good on you. Were you expecting a prize?" he asked sarcastically.

"This face is awfully grumpy," Jack observed. "Nice suit, by the way. Interesting change from the cape. And your hair is lighter now, too. Blond, even." Martha made a confused look at him and was about to speak, but Jack beat her to it. "Master?"

"Yes Jack?" he replied, pausing as the human male's tone of voice changed to one of seriousness. He crossed to the both of them and leaned back on the console, unused to worry on the human male's face.

Jack wasn't supposed to be here. More importantly, if he was here, Martha would find out just exactly who it was he was looking for and just how dangerous it was. He didn't want anything to happen to her, of course, but in this particular case, the less information she knew, the better. The Master honestly didn't think he would find him any time soon; all of time and space was the best place for one man to hide.

"I saw the rosters. At Canary Wharf. Rose was on the list of the dead-"

"Oh!" The Master exclaimed, finally giving Jack his full attention instead of watching the confusion on Martha's face grow. "She's alive!"

"You're kidding?"

"Alive in an alternate universe, and Mickey and her mother."

"Ha! That's great!" Jack hugged the Time Lord in spite of himself, a gesture which the Master didn't return, but simply rolled his eyes at. Martha covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Rose had been here before her, according to the Master. He never talked about her though; Martha wasn't entirely sure of their relationship aside from the fact that she had obviously been his companion.

"So, it's cold out there, yeah?" Martha asked Jack, breaking the awkward moment.

"No, actually. I believe there's some sort of atmospheric shell. No stars in the sky though."

"No stars?" she asked. The thought interested her and she headed for the door.

"Oh, come on now, let's go!" The Master groaned. "The end of the universe is boring."

"I just want to see!" Martha opened the door and stepped outside, quickly followed by Jack and the Master. "No stars..."

"They've all burned out," the Master said. "Every last one."

"D'you think there are any people?" she asked curiously.

"It's possible," the Master conceded. "Actually, I'd say it's one hundred percent possible."

"Why is that?"

"Look," he said, pointing to a human down a large ravine. He was being chased by several other humanoid creatures with torches and loud voices.

"Looks like a manhunt to me," Jack observed, grabbing Martha's hand. "Let's go help him!"

"Jack-"

"Sounds good to me!" she replied, using the excuse for handsome Jack to hold her hand. The Master sighed in exasperation as they ran off in the man's direction.

"If my loafers get damaged-"

"I'll buy you new shoes! Just come on, you stick in the mud!" Jack yelled over his shoulder. The Master bristled and ran to catch up.


	3. Professor

Author Note: I've been getting quite a bit of buzz from this fic. I'm very glad everyone likes it so much! Things are going to pick up soon. And yes, it's 9. I'm sorry. I had to.

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Martha and Jack raced down the hill, yelling for the human man at the bottom to stop. The Master was grudgingly following them, apparently concerned more for his shoes than the human. The man began babbling something about "them" when Jack and Martha approached.

"Jack! Get him in the TARDIS!" The Master yelled.

"Oh, so now you want to help?" Martha replied over her shoulder, grabbing the man's hand reassuringly. "It's alright, we've got you. We have a safe place you can get away from them-"

"Oh bugger," the Master grumbled, finishing his descent just as another swarm of the beings appeared right behind him, in the exact direction of the TARDIS. He ran right past Jack, Martha, and the man who he was now completely sure was a human. "Come on! They'll catch us!"

"Follow me, I'll take you all to the silo!" The man gestured in the general direction that the Master was already running. Jack and Martha ran off without daring to look over their shoulders. The former was planning on shooting them, but Martha wouldn't let him.

"Just like old times, eh?" Jack yelled at the Time Lord, who was now running backward.

"Your nostalgia is stifling! They'll eat you first; I heard it was a good seasoning!" he declared, as Martha quickly caught up with him.

Jack just grinned and shook his head.

The dark haired man led them to the silo, a place surrounded by metal gates. Soldiers were in the yard, all carrying guns of some kind. They spotted the group of four and opened the gates, demanding to see their teeth. A confusing demand, but the four of them did it all the same. They quickly let the three humans and Time Lord into the yard, aiming their guns at the creatures that had followed behind.

The group were breathing heavily, aside from the Master, who was quite happy with his binary vascular system, thank you very much. The man they'd helped turned to the nearest guard. "My name is Padrafet Shafekane. Tell me, can you take me to Utopia?"

The soldier grinned. "Yes, yes I can." He locked the gates, gazing wearily upon the creatures.

"What are they? Martha asked, finally getting a good look at them. They were humanoid, but with long, sharp teeth and animalistic dispositions.

"The Futurekind," the guard explained. "It is feared that they are what we will become. Come on."

They headed off into the silo, the Master observing the Futurekind with curiosity.

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"Professor?"

"Yes?" The elderly man gazed up from his work, as if he could see the person speaking to him from the intercom. The sound hurt his ears, but it was better than the alternative.

"How are we doing?"

"Good, yes, very good." Chantho gently nudged him as a reminder of the conversation they'd had just moments ago. "Oh! Chantho and I, we saw the scanners. Did the human make it away from the Futurekind?"

"Yes, there are four of them. One of them insists he's a scholar of all sorts of things."

"A scientist?" He gasped. Perhaps, just maybe... "Oh, fantastic!" He dropped the metal contraption in his hands onto the floor in his haste. "Stay here Chantho, I'll be back!"

"Chan – be careful Professor – tho!" She looked after him in concern, picking the stabilizer up off the floor. He had far more energy than a man of his age really should.

He gave the insect humanoid a wave, then darted out into the hall.

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"Well I kind of need it," the Master insisted, slightly annoyed by the almost overwhelming stench of human in the air.

"What's it look like again?" the guard asked patiently.

He sighed. "Tall, blue, wooden. Says 'Police'. I need it."

The guard nodded. "The last water collection is soon, I'll see what I can do."

The Master gave the man a small nod of appreciation. Martha and Jack were staring down a long hallway, full of grubby looking people. "It's like a refugee camp..."

The man from outside interrupted the conversation that the guard was having with the Master. "I need to find my family, my mom and brother. They were on their way here. Kistane and Beltone Shafekane?"

"No computers, but you can check the paperwork. Creet!"

A boy of no more than 10 poked his head out of a side hallway, with a large mop of blond hair and a clipboard. "Whatcha need?"

Padrafet approached and began speaking to Creet, who Martha was observing with interest. "How old are you then, Creet?"

"Old enough to work," was his answer. The Master liked that answer. "This way."

They followed him down the long hallway that Jack and Martha had previously been observing. Creet was looking over the papers on his clipboard, calling out the names of Padra's family. There were hundreds of people here, all huddled together in the hall. The Master had a sneaking suspicion there were many more floors of people just like this.

"Is there a Kistane and Beltone Shafekane?"

A woman a few meters down the hall stood. "That's me- Oh my god, Padra!" Padra grinned and ran off in the direction of his mother and sibling.

"Not all bad news, yeah?" Martha said, watching the man go with a smile on her face.

The Master wrinkled his nose, then turned his attention to the door on his left. "Let's see here, a mysterious door. I think this door should be opened." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver metal rod with a blue light on the end, aiming it at the number pad.

"Sonic screwdriver? You never use that thing," Jack insisted, letting his wandering eyes drift over the more attractive people in the silo. "Even if it _is_ stolen. And remodeled."

"Only if I need to. Door is partially deadlocked. Try and overload the code, go on."

Jack began unceremoniously pressing as many buttons as he possibly could, causing the door to slide open after a moment. The three of them poked their heads inside. Martha immediately drew back, unprepared for the large drop that was just beyond the doorway. The huge spaceship loomed before them like a beast, heat rushing up from the engines. "Woah..."

"They aren't refugees. They're passengers," the Time Lord deduced, shutting the door. "In a ship with primitive engines, even."

"They did say something about going to Utopia," Martha said. "But I thought you said all the stars were going out? If that's true, then where's Utopia? A place with a sun?"

Suddenly, a fairly tall, balding man with huge ears ran up, looking back and forth between the Master and Jack. "Which one of you is the scientist?"

"That would be me," the Master said authoritatively.

"Fantastic!" The man grabbed the Time Lord's hand and dragged him off. Martha and Jack watched as he motioned for the two humans to save him. They just laughed and followed behind instead.

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"Chan – welcome – tho!" Chantho greeted the three time travelers, watching the Professor drag the one in the black suit toward the machinery.

"This is the gravitissimal accelerator, which..." He trailed off at the Master's confused face. "Ah, this over here, this is the footprint impellor system. If you know anything about endtime gravity..."

"Hello, there. Who are you then?" Martha asked, still unaccustomed to the range of aliens that existed in the universe.

"Chan – Chantho – tho," said the insectoid warmly.

"Captain Jack Harkness," said Jack, formally introducing himself.

"Oh just stop," the Master said, not even looking up from the machine he was examining.

"We can't get it to harmonize! It's bloody stupid," the Professor declared grumpily.

Jack gave Chantho a wink and set his pack on the table to his right, heading in the Master's direction. "What's all this over here?" Martha was examining his pack with interest; there was some sort of noise coming from it.

"So all of this feeds into the ship?" the Master asked, looking around at the equipment in confusion.

"Yeah, except without a stable footprint we'll never achieve escape velocity. If only we could harmonize the five impact patterns and unify them, we might make it. What do you think? Any ideas?" The Professor looked hopeful.

"I've never seen a system like this," the Master admitted finally. It was a mixed and matched system of parts, many that even he'd never seen before. It was irritating to him, that there was something he didn't know. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"That's alright," the Professor sighed. The energy seeped out of his bones, deflating his ambitions. He was borderline arthritic now, something that used to have a cure in the old days, but no one knew how to cure now. "No worries. It's just hard finding help that knows what to do." He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the headache that was on its way. And the sound, that god awful sound. It almost sounded like... it was getting closer. But it couldn't be.

"Oh my god," Martha exclaimed. "It's a hand!"

The rest of them ran over, to find a hand bubbling away in a jar. "What the- That's _my_ hand! What are you, a stalker?"

Jack just laughed. "It's my Master detector," he explained. "That's how I found you when I did."

"It's... a hand. In a jar. In your bag." She wheeled on the Master, who was standing away from the group. "And you just... grew a new hand?"

He gave her a wave with said new hand, coupled with a mischievous smile.

"Chan – is this a tradition amongst your people – tho?"

"Not on my street. What d'you mean that's your hand? You've got both your hands, I can see them."

"Lost my hand in a sword fight on Christmas. Speaking of which, why do you bloody humans always get into trouble on Christmas? I mean, come on, it's _Christmas_!"

"So you... grew another hand?"

He just nodded and waved again. She always did get over-excited about the strangest things.

"You're mad," she declared.

"Can I ask what species you are?" the Professor said curiously.

"Time Lord," the Master answered. "Heard of them?"

The Professor and Chantho shook their heads.

"Well then," the Master replied, perturbed that no one remembered the great species known as the Time Lords. "What are you?" he asked, suddenly turning to the insectoid standing next to the Professor.

"Chan – I am Chantho – tho," she answered.

"Chantho is the last survivor of the Malmooth. This was their planet, before we took refuge here," the Professor explained.

"You grew... Another hand..."

"Oh calm down Martha. My hand is perfectly functional in all aspects," he said, waving it in front of her face as if to prove his point. She just shook her head at him a little.

"So those things outside. The Futurekind," Jack prompted. "What are they exactly?"

"We don't know. They could be evolved humans, but we don't have the technology here to test that theory," the Professor explained. He suddenly screwed his eyes shut and sat back on the chair behind him. "We are doomed to become them unless we reach Utopia," he continued.

"What's Utopia?" the Master questioned, taking notice but saying nothing.

"How do you not know what Utopia is?" The Professor asked, incredulous.

"Don't read the newspaper," he replied casually.

The Professor wrinkled his nose, then continued. "Follow me." He led them to a computer screen with a navigation matrix and a red blip, flashing over and over. "It's a signal. It keeps saying 'Come to Utopia'. Originating from that point there."

The Master sat at the computer, examining the makeshift machine. "What's out there?"

"We don't know. A city? A haven? No one's sure. But it's worth a look, don't you think?"

The Master smiled a bit in spite of himself. He knew that feeling, of not wanting to die. Wanting to live.

"Right, so," the Professor said, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "If you're all not going to help, then I suggest you shunt off. There's work to be done."

"Chan – Professor, are you feeling unwell – tho?" Chantho crossed to him, gently taking hold of his arm.

He quickly shook her off. "I'm fine Chantho. I'll be fine. Work to do." He turned back to the machines.

"Except that ship isn't going to fly. And you haven't told them, have you?" The Master slowly walked across the room to the Professor, hands in his suit pockets.

"We'll find a way!" he insisted, fiddling with a few inane dials on the console in front of him. "It's better to let them live in hope."

The Master let the ghost of a smile cross his face. "So then, I wonder." He knelt down and picked up an interesting looking switch. He pulled out the rarely used sonic screwdriver and the whirr caused the Professor to screw his eyes shut in what looked like pain. The Master raised an eyebrow at him, but quickly flipped the switch. The lights in the entire silo blazed to life. Chantho gasped.

"Chan – you did it – tho!"

"How did you do that?" The Professor demanded, watching the Master put the contraption back in his pocket.

"I forgot to tell you," he said with a grin. "I'm a genius."


	4. Doctor

Author Note: Wow, I've been getting crazy feedback from people. This is great! Please keep it up! I love seeing e-mail alerts in my inbox, it brightens my day considerably.

* * *

The voice of the man on the intercom blazed to life. "All soldiers fall back to the silo. All passengers prepare for immediate boarding. Destination: Utopia."

Everyone was at a different machine. Chantho and Martha were rushing about with all types of circuit boards. On their way back to the Professor's lab, Martha caught sight of the boy from earlier.

"Hi again. What was your name? Creet, right?"

"Yes, miss." He was without his clipboard now, just another passenger.

"Who are you with Creet? Where's your family?" Person after person was walking past and disappearing through the metal doorways.

"Don't have a family. It's just me," he replied, but there was no sadness in his voice.

"I see. I have a quick question for you, Creet, if you don't mind answering," she asked, hopefully. The boy shook his head and she smiled. "Thank you. See, a friend I'm with is searching for someone, and I think you might be the one to ask since you write everything down, yeah?"

Creet nodded. "Sure, miss. Who is it?"

"I don't know the name, I'm sorry. All I know is that this person has something to do with a beat, a beat of four, like this." She reached over with her free hand and tapped on the metal wall four times. If the Master was going to get distracted, she may as well do the searching for him.

Creet looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his mop of hair. "No one like that here, miss."

"Ah," she nodded. "Well, thank you for your help and good luck. What do you think it's going to be like in Utopia?" She shifted the circuit boards to her other arm.

"My mum used to say that the sky is made of diamonds!"

"That's wonderful, off you go then! Go get your seat!" She watched him go, silently hoping for his safety.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Master paused in his work and sniffed the string in his hand. "But this is gluten extract."

"Yes," the Professor replied. "Binds the neutralino map together."

"You made this system out of food?" the Master asked, incredulous. "I've never said this before and I'll likely never say it again, so pay attention. You are a genius."

"Says the person who made it work," the man joked.

"Really though. It's impressive. And I don't say that, not ever, because... I'm me."

The Professor gave him an amused look. "Even my title is false. There hasn't been a university for over a thousand years. Spent my life going from one refugee ship to another."

"If you had been born in a different time, you'd be revered." The Master paused as he heard the Professor chuckle. "I mean it. Throughout the galaxies."

"Those damned galaxies. They had to go and collapse. Some admiration would have been nice. Just once," he replied, setting another line up on the map.

"Well you've got it now, just don't tell _them_," he gestured his head in the direction of Martha and Jack. He paused. "That footprint engine. You can't activate it from on board. It has be from here. You're staying behind."

The Professor nodded. "With Chantho. She won't leave me here. Flat out refuses."

"You would give your life so they could fly?" It wasn't a new concept, just one he never understood. He always made a point to protect number one, even though almost all of his regenerations were due to helping others. He wondered just how that seemed to happen.

"I think I'm a little too old for Utopia," the Professor replied. "Time I had some sleep."

The intercom above their heads rumbled to life. "Professor, tell the Master we found his blue box."

"Ah!" the Time Lord clapped his hands together. "Don't worry Professor; I've got a trick up my sleeve for you." They crossed the room to Jack, who was looking at the computer screen. The TARDIS was a sight for sore eyes.

The Professor was staring at the blue box on the screen in bewilderment. It was... familiar somehow. Familiar and frightening. The drums in his head were echoing now, louder and louder. He sat on a chair to steady himself.

Martha crossed to see what they were all looking at. "Am I glad to see that thing."

They all watched as the TARDIS was wheeled into the room, the Master quickly disappearing into the box and reappearing with a thick cord. "Extra power. Little bit of a cheat, but that's okay, I'll cheat. Jack, you're in charge of the retro-feeds."

Chantho noticed the Professor sitting down, rubbing his forehead. "Chan – are you all right, Professor – tho?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." He replied, but she still wouldn't leave him be. "I'm fine!" He replied, a bit more insistently. "It's just a headache, Chantho."

The Master walked over, gesturing to Chantho to continue helping Martha. "We've got it, Professor." He paused. "You look ill."

"No, no, just a headache," he replied, pulling on one of his oversized ears. "I'll be fine." He stood up and went back to work.

xxxxxxxxxx

"So, Chantho, how long have you been the Professor's assistant?" Martha was helping Chantho, putting the circuit boards in their proper places.

"Chan – seventeen years – tho."

Martha nodded. "That's a long time."

"Chan – I adore him – tho."

"And let me guess-"

"Chan – I don't think he even notices – tho."

Martha nodded knowingly, "I know how that feels."

"Professor?" A sound from behind them reached their ears and Martha crossed to the small computer screen behind her. "Professor! The systems are down. Professor, are you getting me?" The man's name, they had learned, was Atillo.

The Professor quickly crossed the room to stand by Martha. "I'm here! We're ready! Now all you need to do is connect the couplings. Then we can launch." The connection fizzled and the screen turned to black and white snow. "This bloody equipment! Needs rebooting all the time!"

Martha had to hide a smile. She found it funny that the word "bloody" made it all the way to the end of the universe. "Can I help, Professor?"

"Yes, if you could." He pointed at a specific button on the keyboard. "Just press the reboot key every time the picture goes out."

"Certainly, sir. Just don't ask me to do shorthand," she said with a smile.

Atillo's image flickered back to life. "Are you still there?"

"Present and correct! Send your man in the room. We'll keep the levels down from here." The Professor's form crossed the room to the other side, where Jack and the Master were monitoring the radiation levels in the room with the couplings.

"He's off. And good luck to him."

"Captain, keep the levels below the red," the Professor said, gesturing to the particular dial that was meant to be watched.

"Where is that room anyway?" the Master asked, fiddling with his own machine.

"Directly below the ship. Fix the couplings and the footprint can work. But the entire chamber is flooded with stet radiation."

"Stet? Never heard of it."

"You wouldn't want to. But it's safe enough. We can hold the radiation back from here." They turned to the dials and levers, the Professor watching the screen anxiously. The first two couplings were down successfully. "It's rising…0.2. Keep it level!"

"Yes, sir!" Jack replied, watching the dials carefully.

"Why don't I ever get a reply like that?" The Master asked, perturbed.

"I'll get you a few drinks first," Jack said, turning to him with a wink.

The Master shuddered and it ran up his spine.

Suddenly, the power in the silo fluctuated, the lights dimming and flickering in a very unstable way. "Chan – we're losing power – tho!"

"What?" The Professor looked around frantically.

Quite a ways away, two guards were hunting down a Futurekind woman, one who had snuck in by way of a soldier's mistake and was sabotaging their plan. They promptly shot her and reported to Atillo.

"It was a Futurekind, Professor. One of them got in and was destroying the exterior energy converters. They've got her now, but the radiation is rising." Atillo turned to the man inside the chamber, a man called Jate who he knew had a wife and two small children aboard that ship.

"Jack, it's starting to flood! Override the vents!" The Master was flipping switches and turning dials frantically, much like he did in his time machine.

Atillo was watching Jate work with increasing anxiety. "Jate, get out of there now! You won't survive it!"

Jack crouched to the floor and picked up two fizzling cords, coursing with electricity from the power surge. "We can jump start the override with this!"

"No Jack, don't!" Martha started toward him, but he pressed the two electricity filled cords together and fell to the ground with little more than a yelp. She rushed to his side.

"Oh no... I'm sorry." The Professor stared down at Jack's body sadly. "I'm so sorry."

In the chamber, Jate was on to the next coupling, despite Atillo's insistence that he hurry up and get out of there. Atillo slammed his hand on the door. "Damn it, Jate! You have kids!"

Jate suddenly twisted in the radiation suit and his body burned away. Atillo fell back against the wall, staring at the place he'd just been. He swallowed. "Professor, there's a problem. Jate's dead and we've got no one else to fix the rest of the couplings."

Martha was performing CPR on Jack, noting the lack of a heartbeat. The Master watched the exchange with barely contained amusement. "Professor, it seems you have a room in which no man can enter without dying. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right," the Professor said, confused. "Without the couplings, we can't get the footprint to work."

"Well..." The Master paused as Jack suddenly came back to life, gasping for air. Martha yelped in panic and confusion. "I've got a man who can't die."

Jack looked around in confusion, eyes falling on Martha. "Was someone kissing me?"

xxxxxxxxxx

Jack and the Master bolted down the hall, straight for the room full of stet radiation. The Master spotted the Lieutenant adjusting several dials in front of him. "Atillo, get moving! You're going to miss your flight!"

"But the chamber-"

"Don't worry about it," Jack replied. "We've got a way to fix it. Get going!"

The man gave the two of them a nod and headed for the rocket. The Master watched him go, then turned to Jack. "Alright, so when you get in the chamber- Why the bloody hell are you taking your clothes off?"

"I'm going in!"

"It doesn't affect clothes!"

"So? At least I look good!"

The Master rolled his eyes and unlocked the room for Jack, who paused at the door. "How long have you known I couldn't die?"

"Since I left you," he replied. "Go on, get in there."

xxxxxxxxxx

Martha sat at the computer, constantly pressing the reboot key. "Master, are you there? The computer went out when we had the power surge. Master?"

"I'm here, Jack's working." The Master's fuzzy image appeared on the screen, then flickered away.

"Still alive?" She asked, amazed.

"Still alive," he repeated, almost sadly. Jack gave him an incredulous look, to which the Master just grinned.

"But- He should be dead! What sort of a man is he?" The Professor was watching the computer screen with keen interest. How could a human not die from that?

"I've only just met him," Martha replied. "The Master sort of travels through time and space and picks people up. God, I make us sound like stray dogs. Maybe we are."

"He travels in time?"

"Don't ask me to explain it," she said, gesturing to the phone box behind them. "That's a TARDIS. Sports car of time travel, he calls it."

The Professor almost stumbled backward from the force of the pounding in his head. _A... TARDIS?_ He turned to gaze at the blue box, feeling both frightened and curious. It was as though he knew the thing, somehow. But he'd never seen one before!

Martha and Chantho stood at the computer, watching as the Master and Jack worked.

"When did you figure it out?" the Master prompted, knowing that to figure out you couldn't die, you'd have to... well, die.

"Well, my vortex manipulator took me to 1869 instead of the 21st century, then burned up. Doesn't work anymore. Had to live through the entire twentieth century."

The Master motioned for jack to continue and actually answer his question.

Jack continued. "The first time I died was on Earth, 1892. Got in a fight on Ellis Island. A man shot me through the heart. Then I woke up. Thought it was kinda strange. But then it never stopped. Fell off a cliff, trampled by horses, World War I, World War II, poison, strangulation, a stray javelin..."

The Master winced. "Ooh, I would have liked to see that one!"

Jack just rolled his eyes. "In the end, I got the message: I'm the man who can never die. And all that time you knew."

"That's why I left you behind. It's not easy even looking at you Jack, 'cause you're wrong."

"Oh, thanks."

"What? It's true, I can't help it. I'm a Time Lord; it's instinct. You're a fixed point in time and space. You're a fact. That's never meant to happen. Even the TARDIS reacted against you—tried to shake you off. It flew all the way to the end of the universe just to get rid of you," he chuckled.

"So what you're saying is that you're prejudiced?" Jack asked, finishing the third coupling. Chantho was watching the radiation levels, astounded that a mere human could survive the levels in the chamber, levels that were three times higher than what had killed Jate.

The Master laughed. "I never thought of it that way."

"Yeah..." Jack trailed off. "Last thing I remember back when I was mortal…I was facing three Daleks. Death by extermination. And then I came back to life. What happened?"

"Rose happened," he said.

"I thought you sent her back home? In the TARDIS?"

"I did, but she's bloody stubborn. She came back. Opened the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the entire time vortex into her head."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Jack asked, onto the next coupling, which was giving him a bit of trouble.

"No one's ever mean to have that power. If a Time Lord did that, he'd become a god, a vengeful god. But she was human. She brought you back to life, but she couldn't control it. She brought you back forever. That's something, I suppose," he added. "The final act of the Time War was life."

Jack paused. "Do you think she could change me back?"

The Master's face darkened slightly. "I took the power out of her. She's gone, Jack. She's not just living on a parallel world, she's trapped there. The walls have closed."

"I see. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. But at least she's safe, that's what counts," the Master replied, checking on the dials to his right.

"I went back to her estate, in the 90s, just once or twice. Watched her growing up. Never said hello, timelines and all that."

The Master smiled. That was definitely something Jack would do. "Do you want to die, Jack?"

"Ah, this one's a bit stuck," he replied, struggling with one of the couplings.

"Jack," the Master insisted, bouncing on the pads of his feet. He couldn't fix him; there was no way.

"I thought I did. I dunno. This lot is more important right now though, don't you think?"

The Master just nodded. "You know, you might be out there somewhere."

"Huh. I could go meet myself!"

"The only man you're ever gonna be happy with," the Master replied. In the lab, Martha let out a laugh.

Jack smiled in spite of himself. "I like this new regeneration! It's kinda cheeky."

The Master grinned mischievously.

xxxxxxxxxx

A small bang made Martha jump. She wheeled around to see the Professor trying to pick a piece of equipment off the floor. She quickly got up to help him. "Professor, are you alright? Here, let me help."

"Time travel," the man said, straightening up and staring at the TARDIS in wonder. "They say there was time travel back in the old days, but I never believed a word. But what would I know? I'm just an old man. Never could keep time. Always late, always lost. Even this thing never worked." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch, a watch that seemed newer than the age that the Professor attributed to it. Martha froze.

"_Martha,_ _pay attention. This watch is me. All of my memories, my Time Lord biology, so I __ can become a stupid bloody human. All of it is going into this watch. I need to you keep it and me safe. I won't do anything stupid. I mean, come on, I'm me, but in the event that _other_ people do stupid things, keep me safe."_

"Professor, where did you get that watch? Can I see it?" Martha cautiously approached him, taking the metal piece in her hand. It was warm, far warmer than it should have been. The longer she touched it, the more she could feel... something. It was a sound, very quiet at first, then louder and louder. A beat of four inside the watch. Like drums.

"Oh, it's only an old relic! Like me!" He let out a half-hearted chuckle.

"Where did you get it?"

"I was found with it," he replied, memories surfacing that he hadn't thought about in ages. "An orphan in the storm. I was a naked child found on the coast of the Silver Devastation. Abandoned with only this watch, nothing else."

"Have you ever opened it?" she asked nervously.

"No, why would I? It's broken."

"How do you know it's broken if you've never opened it?"

The Professor was suddenly thoughtful. "I don't know, it's... old, stuck. Broken. It's not meant to be." He paused. "Does it matter?"

"No. It's... nothing. Listen, everything's fine up here. I'm gonna see if the Master needs my help, yeah? Chantho, will you stay here?"

"Chan – of course – tho." The insectoid female looked to the computer screen quickly, then back to the Professor, who had a far off look in his eyes. "Chan - the last coupling is in place – tho!"

Martha ran.

The Master hit the intercom next to the door. "Atillo, is everyone on board and in position?"

Atillo's cracked voice replied, "Ready and waiting!"

"Stand by! Two minutes until ignition!" He switched the intercom off and instructed Jack on which buttons and levers and dials to press and switch and observe.

Atillo's voice came over the intercom, broadcasting to the entire ship. "Ready to launch. Outer doors sealed. Countdown commences, T minus 99…98…"

The Master flipped a series of switches as Martha ran up to them, breathing hard as if she'd run here as fast as her feet could carry her. "Nearly there. The footprint is a gravity pulse. It stamps down, the rocket shoots up. Bit primitive, but if it works. It'll take the both of us to keep it stable, Jack." The human nodded in reply.

"Master-" Martha started.

"Martha, please move, you're in our way. We have to keep this rocket stable," he said, without irritation.

"But Master, the Professor has this watch! It's just like yours, the writing on the front and everything, it's-"

The Master turned on his heel, staring her straight in the face. "What?"

"He said he's had it all his life, ever since he was a kid. I _touched_ it. I _held_ it. And it made that... noise."

The Master felt his blood go cold. He could... But why here? "Martha," he said, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. "This is very important. There's supposed to be a perception filter on it so that he can't see it. Can he see it now?"

"I dunno, I-"

"Martha. Can he see it?"

"...I think so."

"Is it him?" Jack was moving faster, flipping the switches and dials that the Master should have been. "How can the Professor be him?"

The Master's face lit up with recognition, speaking aloud, half to himself. "I should have seen it! That name, it was... Oh no. Chantho's still in the lab. Jack, you have to get her out of there!"

Jack nodded and ran off as quickly as he could.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Professor was staring down at the watch, like it was something he'd never even noticed before. The engravings were almost... But that wasn't his name. Wait, how could he read that?

The watch spoke to him. "_Open me! Hurry up, do it now! They're coming! So many people to save and so little time!_" The Professor was taken aback as a loud, insane cackle erupted from the metal object.

"Chan – Professor, won't you please take some rest – tho?" Chantho was at his side, trying to soothe him. She knew his headaches were bad, but they were never this bad.

Atillo's voice came over the intercom for the last time, "13, 12, 11, 10…"

He opened the watch.

xxxxxxxxxx

"But why? Why would he hide here?" The Master frantically set to both sets of switches, instructing Martha to help him when she could.

"Who is 'he'? I don't understand, Master. Is this the man you keep looking for?" Martha did as he instructed her, flipping a ridiculous number of switches and levers.

"It might be," he conceded. "Of all the places to run, why here?"

"Corner of time?" she suggested.

"Perhaps that's a good way of putting it," he said, as the rumble of the rocket reached their ears. It took off and he raced to the intercom. "Atillo, have you achieved velocity? Have you done it? Atillo!"

"Affirmative! We'll see you in Utopia!" the man answered with a grin.

"Good luck!" The Master switched the button off and reached for Martha's hand. She would be safest with him. She grabbed it and they ran.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Professor walked through his lab, flipping switches and shutting off systems. The door to the coupling chamber shut just as Jack reached it.

"Chan – Professor, what is happening – tho?"

"Only what must be done to save the rest of them," he said vaguely. There was a barely disguised glee in his voice, something that she'd never heard before.

"Chan – Professor, you're destroying all our work – tho!"

The Professor pocketed the watch, turning to the insectoid woman who had been his assistant for so long. "Professor? What kind of a name is that?" He opened the gates to let the Futurekind in, shutting down the rest of the silo.

"It was your mother's name, you idiot!" the Master yelled, banging on the door that Jack was currently trying to get through.

"Chan – Professor, you can't – tho!" She scrambled to stop him, but he shoved her away. "Chan – you'll let the Futurekind in – tho!"

The Professor let out what could only be described as a giggle, then set to work shutting down all the defense systems and unplugging the TARDIS from the machines.

"Chan – I'm sorry, but I must stop you – tho!" She raised a small gun to aim it at him. "Chan – I will kill you with this if I have to – tho!" She didn't like weapons, but it was protection from the Futurekind. And now, from him.

"Ohh," he said with a twisted smile, picking up the cable that had killed Jack not long ago, with his back to the Master's TARDIS. "Now I can say I was defending myself."

"Don't you dare kill her!" The Master yanked the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, trying to get the huge metal door open. Jack tried overloading the number pad as he had before on the door to the silo.

The Professor grinned and thrust the cord at Chantho, electrocuting her, but not before she managed to get a shot from the gun to pierce his shoulder. The Master and Jack got the door opened just as Chantho fell to the floor, dead.

The Professor held his shoulder tightly, blood seeping through his fingers. His gaze fell on the Master, who was gazing at him with a mixture of anger and anxiety. "Don't-"

The Professor slipped back into the TARDIS behind him with a wicked grin. The Master ran across the room and pounded his fists on the door, which was now shut and deadlocked from the inside. "Get back out here, you coward!" He rummaged through his pockets for the key. He knew there would be a regeneration soon if he didn't get in there. He was going to steal his TARDIS! Where was his own bloody TARDIS anyway?

The Professor slowly trudged up the ramp, still gushing blood from his wounds. He inspected the wound critically, then sighed in disgust. "Killed by an insect of all things! Still, if the Master gets to be young and strong, then so do I." A wide grin spread across his face as he threw his head back, regeneration energy pouring from his body.

"Stop it!" The Master couldn't get the door to budge an inch. He looked back at Martha and Jack, who were staring at the surveillance computer.

"The Futurekind are in the silo! They're almost here!" Jack and Martha raced to the door they'd come through, trying frantically to shut it as they saw the Futurekind turn the corner toward them.

The Master turned from one thing to the other, wondering what he should do first. He couldn't exactly let Jack and Martha get eaten, but he didn't want his TARDIS stolen. It was then that he heard the voice.

"Now then, Master," the voice said, with a condescending lilt. "I think I'll leave you to the Futurekind. I have _so_ many people to save and I'm afraid none of them include you."

"No!" He quickly used the sonic screwdriver to lock the coordinates of the TARDIS. "Just stop!"

"Use my name."

The Master bristled. "Doctor."

The Doctor grinned, a smile that the Master could almost see. "Have fun at the end of the universe! Bye bye!" He ran around the console, flipping switches and pulling levers. It sparked and fizzled angrily against the constraints of the sonic screwdriver. "Oh no you don't!"

"Master, a little help here?" Jack called, as he and Martha struggled against the Futurekind, who were trying to push their way in through the door. "We're losing!"

The Master looked at his TARDIS one last time as it faded away into the past. He quickly turned and ran to the side of his human companions. "Give me your hand!" He grabbed the wrist that Jack's vortex manipulator was on and took the sonic screwdriver to it.

"It doesn't work, it's broken!" Jack yelled, over Martha's scream. One of the beasts had almost bitten her hand.

"Not anymore! Martha!" He grabbed Martha's hand and put it over Jack's on top of the device. He slammed his hand down on theirs and they were gone.


	5. Drums

Author Note: Thank you for all of your lovely reviews! They mean a lot. I also took a bit of liberty with Martha; it seems to me that without the constant romantic jealousy, she would have developed more as a character. And yes, it's the same Lucy.

* * *

_They were at the forefront of his mind now, the drums. They filled his brain with such a sound, a commanding voice of promise and strength._

_"You can save them," it said. "You can save them all."_

* * *

In an unwatched alley, three people suddenly appeared from thin air, something that would have alarmed everyone in the area, had any of them been watching.

"Oh, my head!" Martha cringed.

"Time travel without a capsule," the Master said, trying and failing to crack his neck. "That's a killer." Jack did manage to crack his neck, which earned him a jealous glare. They casually walked from the alley into a pedestrian area surrounded by shops. It seemed like a normal day; the sun was shining, birds were flying about. Ordinary.

They stood huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. "Still, at least we made it. Earth, 21st century by the looks of it. Talk about lucky," Jack said.

"That wasn't luck, that was me," the Master replied smugly. "Fixed your time hopper."

"The moral is," Jack insisted. "If you're gonna get stuck at the end of the universe, get stuck with an ex-Time Agent and his vortex manipulator."

"But this... Doctor bloke, he could be anywhere; he's got the TARDIS." Martha stood beside Jack and the Master, looking over her shoulder every few seconds as if she was worried he would pop out of the nearest shop and kill her.

"No, he's here. Trust me_._" The Master looked around. "He's definitely here."

"Who is he, anyway?" Martha asked. A few people were walking past them with odd looks; it occurred to her that they probably looked suspicious all huddled together as they were. "And that voice at the end, that wasn't the Professor."

"If the Doctor's a Time Lord, he must have regenerated," Jack concluded, noticing Martha's unease and giving her a half hug.

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's changed his face, voice, body, everything. Same memories, but physically a new man." The Master looked around cautiously. Something wasn't right. There was a sound...

A homeless man on the side of the road was tapping. A coin against a white metal cup. A rhythm of four, over and over again. He seemed to be oblivious, as though he wasn't aware that he was even doing it. The sound echoed in the air.

"Then how are we going to find him?" Martha questioned.

"I'll know him the moment I see him," the Master insisted. "Time Lords always do."

"But hold on. If he could be anyone…" She looked around at all the posters, their black and white screaming at her mind. "We missed the election! But it can't be…" Martha took off running toward the large plasma screen at the end of the street. The other two followed her, feet thudding on the pavement.

The screen was brilliantly lit, with a newscaster's voice floating over the area. "Dr. Smith has returned from the Palace and is greeting the crowd inside Smith Headquarters."

The screen showed a man in a brown suit, oddly spiked hair and an even stranger tie.

"I've heard that voice hundreds of times. I've seen him, we all have. That was the voice of John Smith," Martha said, staring up at the screen.

"That's him. He's Prime Minister..." The Master stared up at the screen in horror. The cameras flashed as the Doctor descended the ornamented stairs in Smith Headquarters, waving to a few reporters here and there. He suddenly turned to a blond woman on his right, giving her a rather involved kiss. "The Doctor and his _wife_!"

They watched as the Time Lord known as the Doctor stepped forward to address the press. No one could see the maniac glint in his eyes but the Master and it made his blood go cold. "This country has been sick. This country needs healing. This country needs medicine. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that, what this country really needs right now..." He unceremoniously pointed to himself as he spoke, a grin spreading over his new face. "Is a doctor."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Finance report, sir."

"Military protocol, sir."

"EC directive, sir."

"Annual budget, sir."

The Doctor and his wife Lucy walked toward the Cabinet room, the former almost groaning aloud at the number of folders and papers that were thrust at him. His red trainers squeaked against the polished floor, a staple of his wardrobe that he insisted helped him connect with younger voters. He was impatient, as always. He had never been patient, as far back as he could remember. Some faces were more patient than most, but this one hated to sit still, to wait. To meticulously plan. But it was necessary. Necessary if he wanted to save them all.

They paused outside the cabinet room and he turned to Lucy, who spoke with a smile. "I'm so proud of you, John." He smiled and they brought themselves together for a kiss, just as a woman approached them.

"Excuse me, sir? Um, if you don't mind me asking…I'm sorry, but it's all a bit new. What exactly do you want me to do?"

The Doctor turned his attention to the woman he had hired. "Ah, and your name is?"

"Tish. Letitia Jones."

"Well then, Tish," he said, watching her with an odd look of self-importance in his eyes. "You just stand there and look gorgeous_._" He gave her a wink with a click of his tongue, then set off into the Cabinet room. It had been rebuilt just in time for the Doctor to take his proper place in it.

The men of his cabinet watched him enter and walk to his chair, an audience to his impending victory. "A glorious day, isn't it? Downing Street rebuilt, the Cabinet in session. Let the work of government begin." He unceremoniously threw the files up into the air, watching the papers float to the ground like snow. _Or ash._ "Oh, go on. Crack a smile. It's funny, isn't it?" He looked across the table to Albert Dumfires, who was watching him with a precarious glare. "Albert, funny? No? Little bit?"

Albert gave a half-hearted smile. "Very funny, sir. But if we could get down to business, there is the matter of policy, of which we have very little-"

"No, no, no, no," he interrupted, sitting down. "Before we start all that, I just want to say…thank you." He looked from one end of the table to the other. "Thank you one and all, you ugly, fat-faced bunch of wet, sniveling traitors."

Albert gave the half-hearted smile again, humoring the new Prime Minister. "Yes, quite. Very funny. But I thi-"

"No, no. That wasn't funny." The Doctor stood from his chair, hands splayed wide with fingers pressed hard on the cold desk. The level of apprehension in the room was growing exponentially. "I must not be making myself very clear. Funny is like this." He spread his mouth wide, in a grin that showed as many teeth as possible. "Not funny is like this." He frowned, exaggerating every possible muscle. "And right now, I'm not like this…" He smiled again, just as he had before. "I'm like this…" His frown returned, along with the feelings of apprehension from the Cabinet members. "Because you are traitors. Oh yes, you are! As soon as you saw the vote swinging my way, you abandoned your parties and jumped on the Smith bandwagon. So, this... is your reward." He returned to his chair, pulling a contraption seemingly out of nowhere and fitting it over his face.

Albert was shifting uneasily in his seat. "Excuse me, Prime Minister, do you mind my asking… What is that?"

The man known as John Smith replied with ease, though it was muffled to the point that no one in the room could understand his reply.

"I beg your pardon?" Albert asked, setting his pen on the table.

The Doctor pulled the bottom of the object up, so that they could hear him. "It's a gas mask," he replied, replacing it on his face.

"Yes... but why are you wearing it?" This reply was just as muffled as the first. Albert cleared his throat in impatience. "I'm sorry?"

He sighed and pulled up the mask again. "Because of the gas!" He replaced it with a bit of impatience.

"What gas, sir?"

The man could barely make out a muffled, "This gas."

The speaker phones on the table opened up abruptly, shooting a deadly white gas into the air. The Cabinet members jumped up in alarm, coughing and sputtering as they breathed the air, the poison quickly shutting down their systems. The Doctor's face was split with a grin behind the mask.

"You're insane!" Albert declared with a cough, weakened from the gas and falling off his chair.

"Don't you get it?" he demanded, standing from his chair angrily as the man was dying. It was muffled, but Albert was able to make out a little of the man's words before he fell unconscious. "I have to, it's the only way to save them."

He fell back in the chair after they were all dead, eyes glazed and impassive. The drums churned in his head like sea water, filling every crevasse of his mind. He mimicked their beat on the desk with his fingers. 1, 2, 3, 4...

* * *

_The drums were pleased, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't happy yet, there was something more, so much more that must be done._

_"You have to save them," the drums insisted. "Save them. Save them all."_

* * *

The Master, Jack and Martha came upon the latter's flat and rushed in as soon as they arrived. The flat seemed untouched; the Master hoped that the Doctor hadn't figured out just who Martha was. "What have you got? Computer, anything?" He looked around the living room, taking in everything that Martha owned in one sweep. He noticed Jack dialing someone on his phone. "Jack! You can't call anybody, no one can know we're here!"

"They're just some friends of mine!" he replied defensively. "But there's no reply."

Martha came out of the next room with a laptop, which she handed to the Master. He gladly took it, but Jack swiped it before he could do anything else and sat at the table next to the Time Lord. "Here, let me show you his websites. He's been around for a long time." Jack pushed the object closer to the Master, so that he could see. He just rolled his eyes at Jack's mock authority.

"That's so weird though," Martha said, thinking aloud. "It's the day after the election. That's only four days after I met you."

"We went flying all around the universe while he was here the whole time. Irony, how I hate you," the Time Lord added, hands on his face and staring down at the table in front of him.

"So are you going to tell us who he is, then?"

"He's a Time Lord, that's all you need to know," the Master replied, perturbed.

"Well Jack certainly seemed to know a lot more than I did," she replied testily. "He calls himself the Doctor, but he killed Chantho without a second- Oh my god." She froze and immediately turned to Jack. "The Futurekind, do you think... they _ate_ her body?"

The Master slowly ran his hands down his face in defeat. "All right, all right. He's a Time Lord, like me. We're the only two left after the War. He's... unstable. And dangerous. That's why we have to capture him. That good enough?" He turned to Jack. "Hurry up, gimme those websites."

Martha hugged herself uncomfortably and crossed the room to her answering machine, which had been blinking at her since long before they got there. She pressed the button and her sister Tish's voice came out of the machine. "Martha! You'll never guess what happened! I got this new job! They just phoned me out of the blue-"

She erased it. "Too overly excited, Tish. Just a bit."

xxxxxxxxxx

"No, but ma'am, I can't-"

"_John Smith: A Modern Churchill._ It's the definitive think piece on the man himself." Vivien Rook handed a copy of the article to the assistant that was trying to dissuade her from her interview with Lucy Smith. "Oh come on, sweetheart, you must've read it!"

"Um, not really, sorry. I'm new."

"Dr. Smith does like a pretty face," she commented. "But I'm here to see Mrs. Smith."

"You can't just go barging in!"

Vivien pushed the door in front of her open to find Mrs. Smith sitting comfortably on a sofa, massaging her feet. "Mrs. Smith, I'm Vivien Rook, _Sunday Mirror_." She held her press card up briefly. "You've heard of me?"

"Oh, can't I just have an hour to myself? It's been a hell of a day."

"Strike while the iron's hot, that's what I say, Lucy. I can call you Lucy, can't I? Now, everyone's talking about Doctor John Smith, but I thought 'What about the wife?' All I need is twenty minutes." Vivien was astutely aware that Tish was still behind her.

"Oh, I think maybe we should wait," Lucy replied, letting her gaze drift to the door that separated her from her husband.

"The headline's waiting to print: _The Power Behind the Throne._" She saw the glimmer in Lucy's eye change. Gotcha.

"Really?"

"Britain's First Lady," Vivien pressed.

"Gosh."

"Front page, even."

"I suppose… Oh, go on then. Twenty minutes."

Vivien smiled, "Excellent! Thank you!" She turned to Tish, handing her coat over. "Oh, what was it? Tish? Yes, Tish. Now you can leave us alone."

"But, I'm supposed to sit in-"

"No, no. It's only a profile piece. You know, hair and clothes and nonsense." She gently pushed Tish out the door. "There's a good girl. Out you go. That's it." She quickly shut the door, clutching her papers and folders to her side. She turned to face Mrs. Smith. "Mrs. Smith," she said shakily. "I have reason to believe that you're in very great danger. All of us, in fact. Not just the country, but the whole world."

Lucy furrowed her eyebrows and scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"No, please, I beg you, hear me out!" Vivien quickly crossed the gap between herself and the couch. "Your husband is not who he says he is. I'm sorry, but it's a lie. Everything is a lie."

xxxxxxxxxx

The laptop in Martha's apartment was playing an ad for none other than Doctor John Smith, complete with several celebrity endorsements. Jack paused the video. "Former Minister of Defense. First came to prominence when he shot down the Racnoss on Christmas Eve." He turned to the Master. "Nice job, by the way."

"Thanks," he replied smugly. The Racnoss had been an interesting experience, and not just because of the giant red bug. He briefly wondered who Donna had voted for.

"He goes back years. He's famous. Everyone knows his story." Martha crossed the room to stand behind the two boys, pointing at the Prime Minister's personal website. "Look. Cambridge University complete with a Doctorate, Rugby blue, won the Athletics thing, wrote a novel, went into business, marriage, everything. He's got a whole life!"

xxxxxxxxxx

"All of it," Vivien said, showing Lucy the evidence, splayed out in front of her. "The school days, his degree, even his mother and father. It's all invented. Look, John Smith never went to Cambridge. He never got a doctorate. There is no Doctor John Smith. The thing is, it's obvious. The forgery is screaming out and yet no one can see it. It's as if he's mesmerized the entire world."

Lucy was trying and failing to prevent herself from becoming upset. "I think you should leave now."

"Please Lucy. 18 months ago he became real." She handed Lucy a photograph of her husband at a ceremony to honor his work on the satellites that were now orbiting the Earth. "This is his first, honest-to-God appearance, just after the downfall of Harriet Jones. And at the exact same time, they launched the Archangel Network."

"Mrs. Rook, now stop it," Lucy insisted, a bit harshly.

"Even now they say that the Cabinet has gone into seclusion. What does that mean, 'seclusion'?"

"How should I know?" Lucy asked, a bit indignantly.

"But I've got plenty of research on you," Vivien said, standing from her seat and pacing about. "Yes, good family, Roedean, not especially bright but essentially harmless. And that's why I am asking you, Lucy. I am begging you." She sat next to the blond woman tentatively. "If you have seen anything, heard anything, even the slightest thing that would give you cause to doubt him…"

"I think..." Lucy began.

"Yes?" Vivien said, hopeful.

"There was a time when we first met, I wondered… But he was so good to my father. And he said…"

"What? What is it? Just tell me, Lucy dear. You can tell me."

"The thing is... I made my choice." Lucy steeled her resolve and looked the reporter in the eye.

"I'm sorry?"

"For better or for worse. Isn't that right, John?" She turned her head to the left, where her husband was leaning against the door, hands in his pockets, a condescending smirk on his face.

"My faithful companion," he said, noting the wording that made his mind drift to the other Time Lord that was surely out to stop him.

"Dr. Smith! Prime Minister, I-I-I was just having a little joke with Lucy." Vivien began quickly gathering her papers and pictures. "I-I didn't mean-"

The Doctor slowly walked toward her, each step purposeful and restrained while the fingers in his pockets tapped out the war beat of the drums. "Oh, but you're absolutely right. Doctor John Smith doesn't exist."

Vivien swallowed nervously. "Then tell me... Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," he declared, his accent drawing out his name just longer than the rest of his words. "And these are my friends."

Four silver spheres appeared in the air around him, floating and bobbing as if in water. She watched them in terror. "I'm sorry?"

"Can't you hear it, Mrs. Rook?" he asked softly.

"Hear what, sir?"

"The drums. The never-ending drumbeat. Coming closer and closer." The spheres clicked and sharp, deadly barbs were now protruding from their undersides. The Doctor took one more step and slowly took his hands from his pockets, leaning on the couch that his wife was sitting on. Vivien was far more frightened by the look in his eyes than by the silver spheres. His eyes were old, far too old, but unstable; the eyes of a madman. "Don't you see?" he asked. "They all have to be saved."

The silver spheres made sounds that resembled childish giggles. "The lady doesn't like us!"

"Silly lady," one insisted.

"Dead lady!"

The Doctor quickly grabbed Lucy's hand and led her out of the room. The screams of the woman that used to be Vivien Rook assaulted the door behind them as it closed.

Lucy was angry and nervous, looking to her husband in barely contained shock. "She knew. John, she knew everything. You promised! You said Archangel was 100%."

"Well..." He said, drawing the word out and tilting his head to the side. "99, 98?"

"But if she's asking questions, then who else, John? How much time have we got?" She raised her hands to cover her mouth.

The Doctor brought her to him and embraced her, rubbing her back soothingly. "Tomorrow morning, I promise. That's when everything ends. We're going to save them all, Lucy. Just you and me."

xxxxxxxxxx

"But he's got a TARDIS," Jack said, bringing the three mugs of tea from the kitchen over to the table. "Maybe the Master went back in time and has been living here for decades."

"No, he couldn't have," the Master explained quickly. "When he was stealing the TARDIS, the only thing I could do was fuse the coordinates with the sonic screwdriver. I locked them permanently."

"Oh-ho, so at least something's come back to bite him," the Captain replied, taking a swig of his tea.

"Something what?" Martha asked, taking her mug from Jack.

"The sonic screwdriver, it used to be his. I... borrowed it."

"Oh, is that the word for it now?"

"Oh shut up," the Master took a drink of his tea, barely tasting it. "The Doctor can only travel between the year 100 trillion and the last place the TARDIS landed, which is right here, right now."

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, but a little leeway?"

"18 months, tops," he replied. "The most he could have been here is 18 months. So how has he managed all this? This is on a massive scale." He turned his attention back to the computer until Martha spoke, almost timidly.

"I was gonna vote for him."

"You what?" The Master looked at her, incredulous.

"Well it was before I even met you! And I liked him."

"I was going to vote for him too," Jack offered with a shrug.

"Why do you say that?" the Master asked curiously. "What was his policy, what did he stand for?"

"I dunno. He always sounded…good." She leaned back against the arm of her couch, fingers gently tapping out a beat of four. "Like you could trust him. Just nice. He spoke about…" She paused in thought. "I can't really remember, but it was good. Just the sound of his voice."

"What's that?" He asked loudly, shaking her out of the daze she had fallen into.

"What's what?"

"That! That tapping, that rhythm! Why are you doing that?"

"I dunno, it's just... I dunno!"

The website on the computer made a small noise of alert. Jack peered at the screen, noting the flashing words. "Smith broadcast on all channels, it seems."

"Ah," the Master said, moving to turn on Martha's television. "Speaking to his people, I suppose."

The screen showed the Doctor as Dr. John Smith sitting in his office, facing the cameras with a broad smile. "Britain, Britain, Britain. What extraordinary times we've had. Just a few years ago, this world was so small. And then they came, out of the unknown, falling from the skies."

"You've seen it happen. Big Ben destroyed, a spaceship over London. All those ghosts and metal men. The Christmas star that came to kill." He paused for effect, letting the people of Britain remember the horrors and fright they had experienced during those troubling times.

"Time and time again the government told you nothing. Well not me. Not John Smith." His eyes were steeled and dark, the only thing in him that betrayed his insanity. "Because my purpose here today is to tell you this: citizens of Great Britain… I have been contacted. A message, for humanity, from beyond the stars." He nodded to someone off screen and a video, full of static and errors, began to play on the screens of every television in Britain.

A metal sphere appeared, flashing lights running from side to side, appearing to speak. "People of the Earth, we come in peace. We bring great gifts. We bring technology and wisdom and protection. And all we ask in return is your friendship."

The camera returned to the Prime Minister, whose face was an expression of acceptance. "How sweet they are. And! This species has identified itself! They are called the Toclafane."

"Bollocks!" the Master shouted, making Martha jump.

"And tomorrow morning they will appear. Not in secret, but to all of you." He swept his hands out toward the cameras. "Diplomatic relations with a new species will begin. Tomorrow, we take our place in the universe. Every man, woman and child. Every teacher and chemist and lorry driver and farmer." His speech slowed deliberately, tasting each word as it passed his lips. "And every…oh, I don't know…medical student?"

The Master immediately turned to Martha, then yanked the television away from the wall. A large bomb was strapped to the back of it, set to go off any second. The time ticked. "Run!" He grabbed the laptop on his way out, the three of them barely getting outside before the bomb exploded, sending Martha's flat up in a blaze of smoke and fire.

"Everyone alright?" The Master asked, looking around.

"Fine, yeah. Fine." Jack breathed out a sigh of relief. Martha quickly fished her cellphone out of her pocket and began dialing.

"Martha, what are you doing?" The Master gazed at her in confusion.

"He knows about me; what about my family?" She raised the device to her ear.

"No! Don't tell them anything!"

"I'll do what I like!" she hissed back. He quickly put his free hand up in defeat, stepping away from her and on the other side of Jack. "Mum? Oh my god, Mum! You're there! Are you alright?"

"Course I'm here, sweetheart. Are you feeling well?" Francine Jones dared to glance around the kitchen table at the men that were guarding her and her ex-husband, who was sitting nervously across from her. They had been guarding her house for many days now, their oppressive glares setting her on edge.

"I'm fine Mum. Has there been anyone asking about me?" They slowly started off toward the end of the street, walking casually.

"Martha, I think perhaps you should come 'round."

"I can't! Not now!"

"No, but it's your father. We've been talking... We thought we might give it another go," she said timidly.

"What? Don't be so daft! Since when?"

"Just come 'round. Come to the house, we can celebrate."

"You said you'd never get back with him in a million years."

Jack and the Master shot each other confused looks. "Someone has issues," the Master mumbled. He quickly looked around, getting the feeling that they were being watched.

"Well, ask him yourself," Francine said, handing the phone to Clive.

Martha's father took it and held it to his ear. "Martha, it's me."

"Dad?" she asked, completely confused. "What are you doing there?"

"Like your mother said, come 'round. We can explain everything," he insisted.

"Dad? Just say yes or no. Is there someone else there?"

Clive paused. If he told the truth, what would happen to them? To Francine, to Martha? Martha was his child, he decided. He had to protect her. His eyes drifted from the guards to the blond woman listening in on their conversation. He took a breath, their fates in the balance.

"Yes! Just run!" He darted from his chair, running into the hall with the phone. The guards ran quickly and caught him, shoving him hard against the wall, Francine yelling expletives in the background. "Listen! Just run, Martha! I don't know who they are!" The phone was snatched from his grasp and abruptly hung up.

Martha quickly pulled out her car keys. "They've got my mum and dad!"

"Martha, it's a trap! That's exactly what he wants!" The Master quickly followed her back to her car, gently grabbing her arm to stop her.

"I don't care!" she yelled, yanking her arm away from him and unlocking the car. He threw his hand in the air in yet another defeat, then climbed in the passenger seat. Jack jumped in the back and they drove off.

Martha quickly dialed her sister and held the phone to her ear, turning too hard around a corner. "C'mon Tish, pick up!"

There was a soft click and her sister's familiar voice came over the line. "Martha, I can't talk right now. We just made first contact. Did you see-" The phone dropped out of her hand with a thud as she was grabbed by two large guards and carried away. "Hey! What are you doing? Get off me!"

"Tish? TISH!" Martha almost threw the device at the dashboard, but quickly recovered her composure as they approached her mother's house. Black clad men with guns stood aside a van, where they were hauling her father into the back.

Clive struggled against the bonds on his hands, but it was no use. The neighbors next door had ventured outside to see what the commotion was all about. He observed them with wide, frightened eyes. "It's your fault, all of you! You voted Smith! You did this!" They shoved him in the back and grabbed Francine, who was shouting her own colorful protests.

Martha turned the corner just as they began dragging Francine to the van. She saw the car in the corner of her eye and turned. "Martha!" she yelled. "Run! Get out of here!"

The guards quickly took positions, their guns aimed at the car. "Martha, move!" The Master grabbed the gearshift and put it in reverse himself, which broke Martha out of her shock. She quickly reversed the car, driving away as fast as she could go. The guns fired, echoing in the afternoon light. They shattered the back window of her car and she cursed.

"Jack, you alright back there?" she asked shakily.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Can't die, remember?"

"Doesn't mean getting shot doesn't hurt," she replied testily.

He ignored her. "Martha, we have to ditch this car and soon. Preferably now. They know what it looks like."

"Yeah," she said quietly, after a few long minutes of driving. "Alright." She swung the car to a spot off the road, hidden and safe, and the three headed out on foot, careful to watch for the men in black uniforms. She pulled out her mobile again, dialing her brother. "Leo? Oh, thank God! Leo, you gotta listen to me. Where are you?" Jack and the Master were walking in front of her, guiding her under a damp, dripping overpass and into another pedestrian area with trees, benches and small shops.

"I'm in Brighton. We came down with Boxer. Did you see that Smith thing on telly?" he asked, looking over at his son in the stroller. The promenade on the water was busy as usual; loud noises tended to upset the baby.

"Leo, just listen to me. Don't go home, I'm telling you. Don't phone Mum or Dad or Tish. You've gotta hide," she insisted.

Leo scoffed playfully. "Oh shut up."

"On my life! You've gotta trust me," she said, looking around. She lowered her voice, the tone becoming almost frantic. "Go to Boxer's. Stay with him_. _Don't tell anyone! Just hide!"

"Ooh," a new voice drifted out of the phone, one that was condescending, wild and absolutely not her brother's. "A nice little game of hide-and-seek, I love that. But I'll find you, Martha Jones. Been a long time since we saw each other. Must be, what, one hundred trillion years?"

"Let them go, Smith." She could almost hear his smile.

The Master quickly wheeled around, handing the laptop to Jack. He motioned for Martha to hand him the phone, but she refused.

"Do you hear me? Let them go!"

The Master took the phone from her this time, holding it to his ear. Jack quickly put an arm around Martha, who was on the verge of bursting into tears. "I'm here."

The Doctor's grin spread wider. The Cabinet room was surely the best place for this. He took a phone out of his jacket pocket, switching the conversation to the small device. "Master."

"Doctor."

The Doctor smiled, his mouth a bit too full of teeth. "I always did like it when you used my name."

"You chose it," the elder insisted, walking along with Jack and Martha, sitting down on a nearby bench. "The man who makes people better. How wrong can you get?" Jack and Martha were close enough to hear him, but they said nothing. Jack noticed a small shop near the Master and took advantage of the news broadcast on the television in the window. Martha reluctantly followed him over.

The Doctor didn't reply. He only smiled, dark eyes shining.

"So," the Master continued. "Prime Minister."

"I know!" The Doctor said conversationally, standing from his chair to slowly pace about the room, free hand in his pocket. "It's good, isn't it?"

"What are those spheres? 'Cause there's no such thing as the Toclafane, that's just a made-up name like the Bogeyman."

"Do you remember all those fairy tales about the Toclafane when we were kids?" He paused, rolling his tongue over his teeth. "Back home."

"Don't you talk to me about home!" the Master snapped.

"Ooh," the Doctor replied, his voice smooth like silk. "Seems I've struck a nerve."

The Master gritted his teeth, speaking so quietly that Jack and Martha couldn't hear. "You are not to speak of Gallifrey."

"But why not?" he mocked, drifting into Old High Gallifreyan, the lost language of the Time Lords.

"I will not play your games," he replied. He would not dignify the other man with any response in their home language. It hurt too much. Even now, he could see them burning whenever he closed his eyes. Red grass and silver trees all turned to ash.

"How disappointing," the Doctor replied. "You used to play them all the time."

"That was a long time ago," the Master insisted. _I could have saved them._

"Back when you thought you could _stop_ me. Or _help_ me," the Doctor replied, his voice dripping venom now. "But that's _my_ job. It's _my_ job to save. Not yours."

"You could stop this," the Master said, ignoring him. "We could leave this planet. We could fight across the constellations if that's what you want. Just... not here."

"Too late," he replied softly.

"Too late? Why do you say that?"

"The drumming. I thought it would stop but it never does. Never ever stops. Inside my head. The drumming, Master." He let his free hand drift to the cold tabletop, tapping out the rhythm of the drums, the most familiar sound. "The constant drumming."

"I could help," the Master quickly offered, earning him a loud scoff from the other Time Lord. "I could! Let me help you."

"It's everywhere. Listen, listen, listen." He sat in his chair, tapping on the table. Faster and faster and faster. "Here come the drums." He paused, hearing them beat in his ear, in his mind. "Here come the drums."

The Master looked around, spotting a young man leaning up against a wall, listening to music. His hands were on his legs, tapping out the very rhythm that had haunted the Doctor for so many years. He stood from the bench in realization, walking toward the television in the shop nearby. "What have you done? Tell me how you've done this. What are those creatures? Tell me!"

"Ooh, look! You're on TV!" The Doctor sat in his seat, pressing buttons on the shiny laptop he had acquired for himself.

"Stop it!" The Master said angrily. "Tell me!"

"No, really! You're on telly!" He switched the laptop to the very news broadcast that Jack and Martha were watching. The Master cautiously approached the shop, staring at the screen. "You and your little band, which, by the way, is ticking every demographic box, so congratulations on that. Look, there you are! Ha!" The woman on the news broadcast was detailing several facts about the three of them, insisting that they were armed and extremely dangerous. "You're public enemies number one, two and three. Oh!" he said suddenly, as if remembering something very important. "And you can tell handsome Jack that I've sent his little gang off on a wild goose chase to the Himalayas, so he won't be getting any help from them." The Master looked to Jack, who said nothing. "Now, go on, off you go. Why not start by turning to the... right?"

The Master turned as the Doctor spoke. He looked up. The CCTV cameras! "He can see us!" He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and aimed, making the camera suddenly pop and fizzle out.

"Oh, you public menace! And thief, no less!" He almost laughed in sheer glee. "Better start running," he insisted harshly, his previous silky voice freezing into cold malice. "Go on. Run!"

"He's got control of everything," the Master half-whispered, looking to Jack and Martha.

"What do we do?" Martha asked, hugging herself.

"We've got nowhere to go, Master," Jack added.

"Master," Martha repeated, fear creeping into her words. "What do we do?"

The Doctor's voice drifted from the phone, barely audible. "Go on, Master!" He laughed, a cackle of insanity. "Run for your life!"

The Master paused, hanging up the phone. "We run."


	6. Tomorrow

Jeez, what is with this site? I haven't been able to do anything for a week! If you're having this same problem, I found a temporary solution that someone else was kind enough to put in their story:

When the error message pops up, go to the url at the top and replace the word "property" with the word "content". You won't be able to make new stories, but you _will_ be able to update ones that are already started.

Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, but it would have been ungodly long otherwise. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

The Doctor sat in his throne room in front of his laptop, munching on a bag of jellybabies. His feet were propped up on the table, crossed and leaning back in his chair. There was a small flash of light and one of his silver Toclafane appeared behind him. "Have you seen these things?" he asked the creature. "This planet's amazing. Television in their stomachs. Now _that_ is evolution." He popped a few of the jellybabies into his mouth.

"Is the machine ready?"

The creature seemed impatient. The Doctor huffed loudly. It couldn't be any more impatient than he was. "Tomorrow morning. It reaches critical at 8:02 precisely."

"We have to escape," the creature insisted. "Because it's coming, sir! The darkness, the never-ending darkness. The terrible, terrible cold. We have to run and run and run!"

"8:00 tomorrow morning," the Doctor snapped harshly. "Tell your people. The world is waiting." The silver sphere disappeared and the Time Lord sighed. He stood from his chair, slowly making his way to the window, peering out through the shades like a spy.

He would do as the drums asked. He would save them all.

xxxxxxxxxx

Martha scuttled back to Jack and the Master, hopping from shadow to shadow through the abandoned warehouse. She carried a bag full of food that she hugged tightly to her chest. The sound of moving plastic was annoying; it made her feel noticeable. She approached Jack and the Master, who were fiddling with a radio and her laptop, respectively. "I'm back."

Jack looked up quickly, clearly relieved that she hadn't been caught. "How was it?"

"I don't think anyone saw me. Anything new?" She opened the bag and handed them both their share of chips.

"I've got this tuned into the government wavelength so we can follow what Smith's doing," Jack answered, taking the wrapped food from her.

"What about my family?"

"It still says the Jones family taken in for questioning," the Master replied, taking his own food from her. "Tell you one thing though, no mention of Leo."

"He's not as daft as he looks." She suddenly paused while taking her own food out of the plastic bag. "I'm talking about my brother on the run." She fell back into the chair behind her, staring at the ground. "How did this happen?"

"Nice chips," Jack commented, stuffing two more in his mouth.

"Actually, they're not bad. For Earth food." The Master ate his own chips with a modicum more dignity than the immortal human next to him.

Jack and Martha quickly exchanged looks as the Master went back to Martha's laptop. Martha nodded at the Master and silently mouthed something. Jack just sighed. "So Master, who is he? How come the ancient society of Time Lords created a psychopath?"

"And what is he to you?" Martha asked. "Like a colleague…"

"He was a friend, at first," the Master replied, eating another chip.

Martha almost chuckled. "I thought you were gonna say he was your secret brother or something."

The Master and Jack paused mid chew to stare at her. The former finally swallowed and said, "You've been watching too much TV."

This time, she did chuckle. "What's with his name, anyway?" Martha asked, slowly eating her food. "Doctors are supposed to fix people, not kill them."

The Master raised a finger, signaling that he'd answer the question as soon as he finished chewing, but Jack quickly added his own two cents in. "All the legends of Gallifrey made it sound so perfect."

The Master dropped his arm in exasperation, giving Jack a glare. He finally swallowed the last chip and sighed. "Perfect to look at, maybe," the Master replied, crumpling his wrapper into a ball. "And it was, it was beautiful. They used to call it the Shining World of the Seven Systems." He paused, staring at an indefinite point in the distance. "And on the Continent of Wild Endeavour, in the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, there stood the Citadel of the Time Lords_..._ The oldest and most mighty race in the universe, looking down on the galaxies below. Sworn never to interfere, only to watch."

Jack and Martha exchanged glances as the Master paused once more, then continued. "Children of Gallifrey are taken from their families at the age of eight to enter the Academy. And some say that's when it all began. When..." He paused again, almost unable to say the words he wanted to. "We were children. That's when the Doctor and I saw eternity. As novices, we were taken for initiation, to see the Untempered Schism."

"The what?" Martha furrowed her eyebrows. The Master gave her a half-hearted glare that said "don't interrupt me". She quickly fell silent.

"It's a gap," he explained. "A gap in the fabric of reality through which could be seen the whole of the vortex. You stand there, eight years old, staring at the raw power of time and space, just a child. Some would be inspired, some would run away... and some would go mad."

"What about you?" Martha replied.

"I was one of the lucky ones," the Master replied. "The Doctor went mad, but I was inspired. Such a beautiful, majestic thing, time." His voice became far off, wistful even.

Jack couldn't help smirking a bit. "I didn't think you liked anything, much less something like time."

The Master almost puffed out his cheeks in indignation. "I didn't get the chance to like it."

Suddenly, instead of asking him what he meant by that, Jack's vortex manipulator beeped loudly. "Encrypted channel with files attached. Don't recognize it," he said, checking the device.

"Patch it through to the laptop," the Master said, glad to be rid of the previous conversation.

"Since we're telling stories..." Jack started. "There's something I haven't told you." He leaned over the laptop and pulled up the last thing that the Master wanted to see: Torchwood's logo.

"Torchwood?" he asked, stuck between furious and confused. "You work for Torchwood?"

"I swear to you, it's different. It's changed. There's only half a dozen of us now." He looked to the Master, trying to communicate his sincerity through his eyes. The Master didn't buy it.

"Everything Torchwood did and you're part of it?"

"The old regime was destroyed at Canary Wharf," he explained quickly. "I rebuilt it, I changed it. And when I did that, I did it for you, in your honor."

The Master was caught in between indignation and superiority, that someone had done something in his honor. Jack took the moment of confusion to open the video file from the e-mail. There was someone there, a middle-aged woman with blond hair.

"I know her, that's Vivien Rook," Martha said quickly. "She's a reporter for the _Sunday Mirror_."

Jack hit the play button and they watched.

"If I haven't returned to my desk by 2200 hours, this file will be emailed to Torchwood. Which means, if you're watching this, then I'm…" She paused, then continued quickly, waving the unpleasant thought away. "Anyway, the Smith files are attached. But take a look at the Archangel document. That's when it all started. When John Smith became Minister in charge of launching the Archangel Network." An image of the Earth popped up on the screen, surrounded by what looked like a net.

"What's the Archangel Network?" the Master asked.

Martha pulled out her mobile. "I've got Archangel. Everyone's got it. See?" She handed the phone to the Master, who began examining the device with interest.

"It's the mobile phone network," Jack explained. "It's gone worldwide. They've got 15 satellites in orbit. Even the other networks, they're all carried by Archangel."

The Master pulled out the sonic screwdriver and it whirred away, aimed right at Martha's phone. "This thing is getting more use than it deserves," he commented, before putting it back in his pocket. He continued examining the object, then suddenly yelled, "It's in the phones! Wait, wait, wait. Hold on_._" He gently tapped the mobile against the makeshift table that the laptop was sitting on. A sound began to emanate from it, a beat of four, over and over again. "There it is. That rhythm, it's everywhere. Ticking away in the subconscious."

"What is it, mind control?" Martha gave the phone a look like she couldn't believe it.

"No, no, no, no. It's subtler than that," he said, listening closely to the noise. "Any stronger and people would question it. But contained in that rhythm, in layers of code… Vote Smith. Believe in me. Whispering to the world. That's how he hid himself from me! 'Cause I should have sensed there was another Time Lord on Earth. I should have known way back. The signal canceled him out."

"Any way you can stop it?" Jack asked hopefully.

"Not from down here, no. But at least we know how he's doing it," the Master added.

"And we can fight back!" Martha said confidently.

"Yes we can," the Master replied with a cheeky grin. He quickly dismantled the phone and laptop, taking his own TARDIS key, plus the keys from the other two. He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and set to work, wielding bits of the Archangel network to the TARDIS keys. After quite a bit of waiting, the Master suddenly jumped from his seat. "There we are! Three TARDIS keys. Three pieces of the TARDIS with low-level perception properties because the TARDIS is designed to blend in. Well, sort of, but now..." He picked up one of the keys and looped a piece of string through the opening, tying it at the end. "The Archangel Network's got a second low-level signal. Weld the key to the network and…" He stepped back. "Martha, look at me. You can see me, yes?"

Martha nodded, "Yep!"

"What about now?" He slipped the string over his neck like a necklace, Archangel TARDIS key dangling from his neck.

Martha blinked. Then she blinked again. Jack had to stifle a snicker. She tried to look at the Master, but her eyes wouldn't let her. "It's like…I know you're there but I don't _want_ to know."

"Exactly!" He replied, taking the necklace off again. "See? It just shifts your perception a tiny little bit. Doesn't make us invisible, just unnoticed." He quickly handed Jack and Martha back their respective keys. "Come on, let's go."

They slipped the keys over their heads and trudged out into the city. "Don't run," the Master said quietly. "Don't shout. Just keep your voice down. Draw attention to yourself and the spell is broken. Just keep to the shadows."

"Like ghosts," Jack offered.

"Yeah, that's what we are. Ghosts." They stepped around people and pets before disappearing into the night.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor was rocking back and forth on his heels impatiently. Lucy was standing at his side, trying to calm his anxiety. She spoke soft, soothing words and he eventually stopped just as President Winters came into sight. The American President had been none too happy about the announcement of alien contact. He had flown to Britain as fast as possible, intent on making the spectacle his own. They were on the tarmac, surrounded by landed planes and airport personnel. "Mr. President, sir!" The Doctor said, giving the man a half-hearted salute.

"Mr. Smith, the British Army will stand down. From now on, UNIT has control of this operation." President Winters was gruff and informal. It made the Doctor's grin split even wider.

"You make it sound like an invasion," he prompted.

"First contact policy was decided by the Security Council in 1968. And you've just gone and ignored it." Winters' guards carried guns, but the Time Lord felt them as unimposing as ducks.

"Well, you know what it's like," the Doctor said casually. "New job, all that paperwork. I think it's down the back of the settee. I did have a quick look," he added, watching the President's face change to one of even more indignation. "I found a pen, a sweet, a bus ticket and uh... Have you met the wife?" Lucy took a small step forward, smiling at the President as charmingly as she could.

"Mr. Smith, I'm not sure what your game is but there are provisions at the United Nations to have you removed from office unless you are very, very careful. Is that understood?"

The Doctor nodded emphatically, then mimed zipping his mouth shut.

"Are you taking this seriously?" Winters asked angrily.

The Doctor nodded and a muffled "mm-hmm" could be heard.

"To business," the President prompted. "We've accessed your files on these…Toclafane_._"

The Master, Jack, and Martha stood far in the distance, sheltered under a landed plane and watching this entire exchange from afar. Martha's muscles were tensed like a cat's, as if she were about to pounce any second. The wind was blowing against their backs, cold and biting.

"First contact cannot take place on any sovereign soil," Winters continued. "For that purpose, the aircraft carrier _Valiant_ is en route. The rendezvous will take place there at 8:00 am."

The Doctor attempted to speak, though his lips were still zipped and he succeeded in speaking not a word.

"You're trying my patience, sir," Winters said, almost yelling.

The Doctor unzipped his lips exaggeratedly. "So America is completely in charge?"

"Since Britain elected an ass, yes. I'll see you on-board the _Valiant_." He turned away, not wanting to spend another second with the Prime Minister and his wife.

"It still will be televised, though, won't it?" The Doctor called after him. "Because I promised, and the whole world is watching."

"Since it's too late to pull out, the world _will_ be watching: me!" President Winters stalked off with his guards, leaving the Doctor happily rocking back and forth on his trainers.

"See, Lucy dear? The last President of America. We have a private plane ready and waiting. We should reach the _Valiant_ within the hour." He held his arm out for Lucy to take, a romantic gesture that the Master had never seen before. They started off in the direction of a van that had just pulled up near them. Black clad men jumped out, pulling on the back doors to reveal Clive, Francine, and Tish. The Doctor dropped Lucy's arm, running over to the van in glee, brown coat billowing dramatically behind him. He spoke something that none of them could hear, but his wide, maniacal grin said it all.

"Oh my god!"

Martha took a step forward, but the Master's arm shot out across her shoulders and stopped her. "Don't move."

"But..."

"Don't." The three of them watched as Martha's parents and sister were moved to a different vehicle.

"I'm gonna kill him," she declared harshly.

"Say I use this perception filter to walk up behind him and break his neck?" Jack suggested.

"Now that sounds like Torchwood," the Master said, giving Jack a glare.

"Still a good plan," the human replied.

"He's my responsibility," the Master said. "I'm not here to kill him. I'm here to stop him."

Jack began typing coordinates into his vortex manipulator. "Aircraft carrier _Valiant._ It's a UNIT ship at 28.2N and 10.02E."

"How do we get on-board?" Martha asked.

"Jack, does that thing work as a teleport?"

"Since you revamped it, yeah." He hit a final button and the device beeped in response. "Coordinates set."

The three of them stacked their hands on the device, then activated it. They were gone in the blink of an eye.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor and Lucy landed on the _Valiant_ slightly over an hour later. Their private plane was almost as large as a normal airplane and the decoration more fanciful. The Doctor helped Lucy descend the stairs, then took her arm and spoke quickly to his guards. "Get the Jones family out of the cargo hold. Lock them up in the fourth Wing until morning." The guard nodded and set to work.

The Doctor smiled over at his wife as he escorted her to an elevator nearby, which would take them down into the bowels of the giant, flying aircraft carrier. They descended in the metal box, arriving in the second Wing, which happened to contain their sleeping quarters for the rest of time.

"Tomorrow, Lucy," he said with a grin as they walked through the halls that would soon be theirs. She smiled back at him lovingly, content to hear him talk. "Tomorrow."


	7. Good

Another chapter, huzzah! After this is where is gets _really_ good. You know the whole **year** they skipped in the show? Yeah, I'm not skipping it. Hope you all like!

* * *

On board the _Valiant_, a bright light flashed and Martha, Jack and the Master appeared in one of the humid engine rooms, cracking joints and stretching muscles uncomfortably.

"Oh, that thing is rough," Martha commented, rubbing her neck.

Jack succeeded in cracking his once again. "I've had worse nights," he commented, which earned him a raised eyebrow from the Master, one that he ignored. "Welcome to the _Valiant_."

Martha looked around briefly. "We're in an engine room?" Her eye caught the porthole to their left and she walked over, peering out. "It's... dawn. Hold on, I thought this was a ship. Where's the sea?"

"A ship for the 21st century," Jack explained. "Protecting the skies of planet Earth."

Martha looked back and forth, taking in as much of the ship as she could. "So it's... flying?"

Jack just grinned at her wonder. "Flying and a lot more than that."

The Master spotted a door at the other end of the room, seemingly the only way out of the oppressively hot area. "This way!"

xxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor escorted Lucy onto the bridge, where President Winters was conversing with a few men. All around them the lights shown bright, illuminating their soon-to-be throne. Silver stairs stood at the opposite end leading to a raised platform, a large table in the middle of the room. Soldiers were posted at every door, guarding the members of the media who were eagerly setting up their cameras.

They could hear President Winters speaking to his assistant as they approached. "I want the whole thing branded in my seal of office, not the United Nations'. Got that?"

The Doctor walked up to the President, giving the man a half-hearted smile in greeting as the assistant walked off. "Anything I can do?" he asked, watching the expression on the man's face change to one of annoyance. "I could make tea or isn't that American enough? I don't know, I could make grits." He suddenly turned to Lucy, curious. "What _are_ grits, anyway?"

"If you could just sit," he replied gruffly.

The Doctor sighed. "Misery guts." He turned and led Lucy to the table behind them, pulling out a chair for her. "What do you think? It's good, isn't it?"

Lucy quickly sat in the chair, looking around the bridge. "It's beautiful."

"Some of my best work," he said, sitting in the chair next to her. "Ministry of Defense. I helped design this place." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a candy bag of wax paper. "Every last detail."

xxxxxxxxxx

The Master led Jack and Martha through several corridors and rooms, each just as hot and humid as the last. The engines roared like hungry, feral beasts. The Master suddenly skidded to a halt, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around.

"We've no time for sightseeing!" Jack insisted, stopping next to him.

"No, no. Wait. Shh, shh, shh," he insisted, putting a finger to his lips. "Can't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Master, my family is on board somewhere, I need to find them." Martha turned away and started for the double doors on the other side of the room.

"Ha! Brilliant! This way, follow me!" The Master turned and started down a set of stairs to their left. Jack and Martha looked at each other, then reluctantly followed him. He led them down a series of steaming hallways, twisting and turning through the bowels of the ship. A set of double doors loomed before them and he threw them open to reveal a very inviting blue box.

"Ha! At last!" The Master took off toward the TARDIS.

"I've never been happier to see that thing in my whole life!" Martha took off after him, Jack on her heels.

"What's it doing on the _Valiant_?" the human male asked, slowing his run as the Master took out his key to unlock the door. He threw open the doors to reveal a very different interior, one bathed in red light.

"What? What the hell's he done?" Jack cautiously followed the Master inside.

"Don't touch anything," the Time Lord said, approaching the console carefully.

"What's he done?" Martha asked, looking around at the very unusual cage contraption mounted around the console. "She sounds like she's sick."

"No..." The Master's face lit with horror. "He can't have..."

"What? What is it?" Martha and Jack could see the Master's face go pale, even in the red light.

"It's a paradox machine."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Two minutes, everyone!" President Winters straightened his tie one final time and ascended the silver stairs overlooking the bridge. It was moments until the broadcast would begin and they would greet a new species. "According to the treaty, all armed personnel are requested to leave the flight deck immediately. Thank you." He watched as the armed guards exited the deck, unaware of the spreading grin upon the Doctor's face.

The Time Lord casually held the wax paper bag out to his wife. "Jelly baby?" She took just one, popping it in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

President Winters dared a glance at his watch. "Broadcasting at 7:58 with the arrival timed at 0800 precisely." He paused, looking around at the media. "And, uh, good luck to all of us."

xxxxxxxxxx

"As soon as this hits red," the Master explained, examining a dial on the bottom of the cage. "It activates. At this speed, it'll trigger at..." He grabbed Jack's wrist, glancing at the watch strapped there. "Two minutes past 8:00."

"First contact is at 8:00 and then two minutes later… What?" Jack glanced at his watch apprehensively.

"What's it for?" Martha asked. "What's a paradox machine do?" She stood next to the two of them, arms crossed. The TARDIS felt different now; it was... darker. It didn't give off the warm, welcoming aura that it used to.

"More importantly, can you stop it?" Jack stood from his crouching position next to the Master, uneasy in the TARDIS that was now red and not blue.

"Not until I know what it's doing," he explained. "Touch the wrong bit and blow up the solar system."

"Then we've got to get to the Doctor," Martha concluded.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "How do we stop him?"

"Oh, I've got a way," he said, looking up at the two humans standing by his side and grinning mischievously. "Didn't I tell you?"

xxxxxxxxxx

The clock hit 7:58 precisely. President Winters straightened his tie yet again, presenting himself to the many cameras and eyes of the world. "My fellow Americans, patriots, people of the world… I stand before you today as ambassador for humanity, a role I will undertake with utmost solemnity. Perhaps our Toclafane cousins can offer us much, but what is important is not that we gain material benefits, but that we learn to see ourselves anew."

The three stowaways slipped silently onto the bridge. The smile on the Doctor's face faded. He turned his head slightly to the right, then back again. He could feel them. Pathetic.

"For as long as man has looked to the stars, he has wondered what mysteries they hold," Winters continued. "Now we know we are not alone…"

"The plan, are you going to tell us?" Jack whispered softly, following the Master slowly around the edge of the room.

The Master pulled the key out of his shirt. "If I can get this around the Doctor's neck, it will cancel out his perception and they'll see him for real. It's just hard to go unnoticed with everyone on red alert. If they stop me…you've got a key," he added, nodding to the both of them.

"Yes, sir," Jack replied.

"I'll get him," Martha said, hands clenched tightly in fists.

"And I ask you now," President Winters continued. "I ask of the human race, to join with me in welcoming our friends. I give you the Toclafane." A gasp rippled through the room as three silver spheres materialized just in front of the President, who smiled as assuredly as he could in the face of three aliens. "My name is Arthur Coleman Winters, President-Elect of the United States of America and designated representative of the United Nations. On behalf of the human race, I welcome you to planet Earth and its associated moon."

One of the silver spheres spun in a circle, red lights blinking across its surface. "You're not the Doctor!"

"We like the Doctor," the second Toclafane declared, a mechanical female voice.

"We don't like you!" The third male added, perturbed.

"The... Doctor?" The President furrowed his eyebrows, obviously confused. The members of the media shifted uncomfortably behind their cameras.

"The man is stupid," the first male Toclafane declared.

"The Doctor is our friend," the second one said.

"Where's the Doctor?" the third asked.

"Oh, all right then. It's me!" The Doctor set his wax paper bag on the table and stood, hands in his pockets in front of the cameras. "Ta-da! Sorry. Sorry, I have this effect. People just get obsessed." He walked slowly toward the steps and toward the Toclafane. "Is it the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don't know. It's crazy!" His face was split in a wide grin.

"Smith, what are you talkin' about?" President Winters shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the cameras.

The Doctor finally turned to face the President, eyes full of malice so cold that the human was frozen in place. "I'm taking control, Uncle Sam," he said harshly. "Starting with you." He nodded to the small group of Toclafane. "Kill him."

The first Toclafane opened a panel on its spherical body, revealing what seemed to be a gun. A red laser burst forth and incinerated the President, falling to ash on the silver stairs.

The room erupted in screams, the media scrambling to get out as fast as they could. The Doctor just laughed. "Guards!"

The men stationed randomly around the room suddenly pulled out weapons, threatening the fleeing people. "Don't move! Nobody move!"

The Doctor's crazed grin shifted to the single camera that was still filming, his head tilted just barely to the side, eyes condescending and cold. "Now then, peoples of the Earth. Please attend carefully."

The Master could stand still no longer. Jack and Martha were frozen in shock as he rushed forward, key in hand.

The Doctor's eyes fell easily on him, knowing. "Stop him!" Two guards rushed forward, grabbing the Master's shoulders and forcing him to his knees. His grin was somehow wider now. He withdrew his hands and reached for Lucy, who he carefully led up the stairs and over the small pile of ash that was once President Winters. "We meet at least, Master! How I love saying that!"

"Stop this! Stop it now!" The Master glared up at him from the floor, hazel eyes half pleading, half demanding.

"As if a perception filter's gonna work on me," he said, his condescending voice drifting into rage. He braced his hands on the railings to his sides. "Oh look, it's the girlie and the freak. Though I'm not sure which one's which."

Jack suddenly rushed forward against the Master's orders, intent on killing the other Time Lord as mercilessly as possible. The Doctor reached into his pocket, pulling out a orange and silver rod, aiming it at Jack. A loud scream ripped through the air as he was hit with a blast and died, falling to the floor without the ghost of a heartbeat. Martha gasped and quickly rushed to his side. "Laser screwdriver," the Doctor prompted, waving the device back and forth in his hand, glaring angrily down at the Master. "Far superior to sonic." He turned his dark eyes to Martha, who was trying to perform CPR on Jack. "And the good thing is," he added suddenly, all cheer and smiles. "He's not dead for long. I get to kill him again!"

"Doctor, just calm down," the Master pleaded. "Look what you're doing. If you could see yourself…"

The Doctor sighed, turning his gaze to the camera. "Excuse me, little bit of personal business. Back in a minute." He turned to the guards, smiling down at them all. "Let him go."

"That sound, the sound in your head. What if I could help?" The Master said quickly, still on his knees. He leaned back on his heels, staring precariously at his former friend.

"Oh, how to shut him up? I know! Memory Lane!" The Doctor grinned, sitting on the steps. "Professor Lazarus. Remember him? And his genetic manipulation device?"

The Master froze in sudden realization, a wave of dread flowing through his veins like blood. Martha's gaze traveled from Jack to the Master, trying to glean an explanation from his almost frightened eyes.

"Did you think that little Tish got that job merely by coincidence? I've been laying traps for you all this time. And if I can concentrate all that Lazarus technology into one little screwdriver…" His face twisted menacingly, his insanity showing through the flimsy mask. "But, ooh, if I only had the Master's biological code. Oh, wait a minute, I do!" He reached an arm back, grabbing a container from behind the railing on the platform above him. He opened the lid and pulled out a bubbling box, which made Martha gasp. "I've got his hand! And if Lazarus made himself younger, what if I reverse it? It'll age you, what... another hundred years?"

He stood, changing the settings on the screwdriver. Martha breathed a sigh of relief as Jack suddenly gasped, clutching his chest. He was alive again, something that she still didn't understand. It appeared as though he couldn't die, but that was impossible. Wasn't it?

The Doctor took aim and the Master screamed. He convulsed and writhed on the floor, the two humans watching in horror. He twisted and turned, arms flying in every direction as he attempted to regain a modicum of control over himself, but to no avail. Martha couldn't look away as she saw his skin begin to sag, his joints become stiff and brittle.

Jack pulled the vortex manipulator off of his wrist, handing it to Martha with his limited strength. "Teleport. You have to escape."

"I can't!" she hissed, ripping her eyes away from the Master.

"We can't stop him. Get out of here. Get out," he wrapped the device around her wrist.

The screaming from the Master suddenly ceased and he crumpled into a heap on the floor. Martha turned and a hand flew to her mouth. She quickly crossed the distance between them, gathering the Master in her arms. "Careful, Master. I've got you." The skin on his face was loose and sagging; he looked a hundred years old now. She could see his hands, now old and arthritic.

"Aw, she's a would-be doctor. How cute," the Doctor said sarcastically. "But tonight, Martha Jones, we've flown 'em in all the way from prison-" He pointed to the very door they had come through and Martha's head turned just as Clive, Tish, and Francine were escorted in by gunpoint.

"Mum! Tish! Oh my god, Dad..."

"I'm sorry, Martha," Francine said softly, tears spilling down her face.

"The Toclafane, who are they?" The Master fixed his dull, lifeless eyes on the Doctor. He could feel his bones, brittle and powdery, almost mocking him. "What are they?"

"Master, if I told you the truth, your hearts would break," he said venomously. The Master felt as though the Doctor was trying to communicate through his eyes alone; the feeling that the Master wouldn't have cared at all. He could almost hear the Doctor's mocking voice in his head. _Why don't you care about saving them? Like I do?_

"Is it time? Is it ready?" The three Toclafane spun excitedly, weaving through the air, breaking the two Time Lords out of their respective reveries. "Is the machine singing?"

The Doctor grinned and checked his watch. "Two minutes past eight." He turned and ran to the very top of the steps, once again turning his attention to the camera. "So! Earthings. Basically, um, end of the world." He raised the laser screwdriver to the ceiling like the remote to a bomb. "Here…come…the drums!"

Earsplittingly loud music ripped through the _Valiant_, causing most all humans on board to cover their ears in pain. Martha recognized the song, "Voodoo Child" by Rogue Traders; she'd never be able to listen to it again.

The Doctor stood on the upper platform, reveling in the music that drowned out the drums in his head. Lucy stood at his side, infected with the sound of the music and tapping her foot along with the beat. He took her hand and led her to the window. She peered out and saw the sky ripped open, a gaping maw of a thousand colors. Toclafane poured out of the schism, descending on the Earth below.

"How many? Go on, take a guess," the Doctor said, putting a hand around Lucy's waist.

"Oh, I don't know," she said hazily.

"Six billion," he said with immense satisfaction. "Down you go, kids!"

The Toclafane swarmed the people of the Earth, shooting and killing them indiscriminately. Their screams didn't reach the _Valiant_, but he could imagine that they had. "Shall we decimate them, my Lucy? That sounds good. Nice word, decimate." He turned his attention to the Toclafane, making an announcement over the _Valiant's_ external PA system. "Remove one-tenth of the human population!"

The Master felt helpless. Helpless and old; he hated it.

Martha looked helplessly to him. He gestured her closer and whispered instructions in her ear. His voice seemed alien to her, but she listened attentively. He gave her orders, orders she had to follow if she wanted to save the human race.

Messages began pouring in from military bases all across the world.

"_Valiant,_ this is Geneva! We're getting slaughtered down here!"

"Help us, for God's sake! Help us! They're everywhere!"

"This is London, _Valiant_! This is London calling! What do we do?"

"They're killing us! The Toclafane are killing us!"

Martha stood and looked sorrowfully to her family, mouthing the words _"I love you"_ before hitting the vortex manipulator and disappearing from the _Valiant_. Jack and the Master quietly hoped for her safety as her family watched her disappear. Jack had set the vortex manipulator to a field in England, one that was flanked by trees that would give her cover. He just hoped that she got there safe and sound.

The Doctor turned from his wife and descended the silver stairs with glee. He ordered the guards to lock Jack away until he could properly take care of him. He lifted the Master into a walking position, refusing to help as he practically pulled the other Time Lord up the set of stairs. He led the Master to the window, forcing him to stand between Lucy and himself, to stare at the rip in the sky. "And so it came to pass," he said gloriously. "That the human race fell and the Earth was no more. And I looked down upon my new dominion, as _master_ of all, and I thought it…good."


	8. Jack

Here we go, the Year That Never Was! I hope you all enjoy my take on it. Please review! It makes me happy. This chapter is a bit gore-filled, so I apologize in advance.

This chapter has a reference or two to Torchwood. If you haven't seen it, all you need to know is Jack has a group of four awesome people working under him. Well... three awesome people and Owen. Ianto is Jack's "it's complicated" on Facebook. Nuff said.

* * *

Jack Harkness was screaming.

He had already died seven times today. The Doctor had ordered him shot, burned, quartered, drowned, beheaded, poisoned, and hung. Now, he was busy taking a scalpel to Jack's skin, carving deep, elegant lines through his muscle that healed almost as quickly as they appeared. He almost giggled in maniac glee as the blood ran down Jack's body in thick rivulets.

Yet, Jack preferred this to what he had done yesterday.

Jack had proven a source of amusement for the insane Time Lord, a position he was glad to accept if it meant the safety of the Master and Martha's family. He didn't know what day it was; everything had been a blur of blood and pain since 8:02 that morning. The room he was held in had no windows or ventilation; he would give his left foot for a breath of fresh air. Though, that didn't mean much when the foot would just grow back.

"Jack," the Doctor cooed, placing the end of the scalpel dangerously close to Jack's neck.

"You're a bastard," he managed to choke out. The worst part was, he had actually found the crazy Time Lord attractive before, physically speaking. He screamed as the Doctor stabbed the scalpel into his neck. Everything went dark as choked on his own blood, dying for the eighth time that day.

The Doctor's face fell impassive and empty. He pulled the scalpel out and let it clatter to the floor, slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit. He waited several moments, patient. Silent. Jack suddenly gasped, barely able to breathe through his ravaged trachea.

"You disappoint me, Jack. Not even a tear? A little one? No?" Jack shook his head to clear it. That particular death had been unusually painful; best not give him any indication of that.

"How many more people have you killed?" he demanded, teeth gritted angrily.

"Oh, you mean your little _gang_?" The Doctor asked, looking straight through his question. "I did tell you they were in the Himalayas." He bounced on the heels of his red shoes, quite pleased with himself. Jack watched him lazily run his tongue over his too-white teeth as if watching something particularly boring on television.

"You killed them all." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, not yet," the Doctor said conversationally, turning to walk about the small room in a circle. The guards around Jack unconsciously shifted away from him. "The one you call Toshiko is dead. A bit of a disappointment, actually. Didn't put up much of a fight." He saw Jack's eyes narrow slightly. "Then again, neither did Ianto."

"You bastard!" Jack grabbed the chains holding his wrists and pulled, trying to yank the metal bolts holding him from the wall.

The Doctor rushed forward, pulling a knife from the belt of the guard to his right, pristine and shining, unmarred by blood. He stabbed it deep into Jack's shoulder, earning him a yell of pain and surprise from the Captain. His face was close to Jack's, near enough to almost touch him. "Don't you get it?" he asked, hissing, seething rage. "If I am to save, then some have to die." His voice drifted between angry and pleading, begging him to understand. "Don't you see, Jack?"

"No, sorry. Never did have a very good imagination," Jack replied sarcastically. The Doctor's response was to pull the tooth-rimmed knife out of his shoulder and stab it through his heart instead. Jack's mouth gaped in pain, eyes rolling back as his death count was brought to nine.

The Doctor pulled the knife out of Jack's chest, wiping it on the shirt of the guard to his left. The man pretended not to notice. A few moments later, Jack awoke, gasping and cringing in pain.

"So, Jacky boy," the Doctor said conversationally, waving the knife back and forth in his fingers as he approached the human once again. "Shall we continue where we left off?"

Jack's muscles tensed immediately. He stared at the Doctor and said nothing.

"Oh, good. I'll take that as a yes." The Doctor pocketed the knife and raised his hands to Jack's head.

"No! Don't you-" Jack's struggling voice was cut off as the Doctor pressed his forehead to Jack's. The human's eyes immediately rolled back in his head. The Doctor grinned, eyes closed, forcing himself into Jack's mind.

Jack's body began to convulse, much like a seizure, but the Doctor wouldn't stop. He held Jack's head fast, fingers splayed wide over his temples. He filled Jack's mind with images, feelings and fear. He violently pressed his prerogative into the synapses of Jack's mind. Jack could see everything; every atrocity he had committed, every person he had killed.

Still, the Doctor delved deeper. He stripped Jack's mind of all thoughts but revenge, forcing his ideas into Jack's subconscious. Jack tried to fight, but the longer it lasted, the weaker he felt. Ghastly images of war-torn worlds, dead children, and piles of corpses flowed through his head.

But behind it all, a deep thrumming. Almost imperceptible, but Jack knew what the Doctor was doing. He forced it away, pushing with all his strength. Each day he did this, Jack's resolve broke just a little more.

Seconds turned into minutes and finally, after somehow fending off most of the Doctor's assault on his mind, Jack was released from Hell, head drooping immediately to his chest. He was asleep. The Doctor grinned in satisfaction.

He stooped to gather the scalpel from the floor, cleaning it in the same fashion he had cleaned the knife. Jack's resolve would be broken soon enough.

And then... He would be an instrument. A marvelous instrument of conquest. Jack's immortality would serve him well. He would break the human, then convolute his mind to his own purposes, making Jack a General of war. He would march across the universe, across all of time itself, securing the Doctor's empire.

He would help save them all. The Doctor pocketed the scalpel as well and left the room, now intent on finding Lucy.


	9. Day 47

I can upload new stories! Hooray! I hope you guys like this chapter, it took me a while to decide what I really wanted to do with it. I know it's short, but I managed to fit a LOT of stuff into this one chapter, if you look hard enough.

* * *

The sky was blue.

It hadn't been blue in three weeks. Or was it four?

The _Valiant_ had been planted firmly above Russia, the smoke and oil used to build the Doctor's warships had obscured all but a small blip of the sun for days. They were moving away from Russia now, toward Austria, for reasons that even the Master didn't know.

"Isn't it beautiful?" The Master didn't move. The Doctor frowned. "I asked you a question."

The Master finally raised his head from his chest in silent acknowledgment. Being stuck in this elderly body was one of the most unpleasant things he had ever gone through. He was unable to breathe as well as he used to. His joints were slow-moving and painful; he rarely stood from his wheelchair, unless it was absolutely necessary. His rations were barely that, with refusal for anything like a pillow or blanket. The Doctor had a dog house brought in for him he grudgingly slept in it, if only for the fact that it was dark, and the dark helped him sleep.

The Doctor had his hands in his pockets, red shoes poking out beneath his blue suit and brown coat. _He has ridiculous fashion sense. Then again, he always did._

"So," the Doctor said conversationally. "Are you going to answer me yet?" He turned from the large window to look down at the Master. The man in the wheelchair didn't move. He simply continued to stare out the window, knowing that the question the other meant was far different than the one he had just asked.

The Doctor had him brought up here every day. Dragged up the stairs, with or without the wheelchair. He was forced to stare at the destruction of the world.

"Do you know why I make you watch every day, Master?" The Doctor asked, turning to crouch next to the old man. Slow. Meticulous. His brown eyes ran over the Master's wrinkles, liver spots and white hair. "This is almost what it looked like, you know."

"Stop it," the Master replied, throat dry and rasping.

The Doctor grinned mockingly. "There's a word or two. How about some more? Come on, you can do it! Come on, boy!"

He was treating him like a dog. The Master refused to dignify the other Time Lord with any sort of frivolous reply. The Doctor's grin slowly faded away. "Why do you always try to stop me?"

The Master slowly turned his head to the right, staring into the eyes of the man crouching next to him. "You know why."

"But they're gone now!" The Doctor stared back, uncomprehending. "They're all dead."

The Master didn't reply. He turned his head slowly back, disgusted by his reflection in the window. It wasn't that being old was disgusting, oh no; it was a symbol. A symbol that he'd lost. At least, for now.

"The Time Lords used to send you after me. Like their guard dog," the Doctor said bitterly. "As if I could be captured and brought to their form of justice."

"You killed," the Master spoke softly.

"I," the Doctor spat, suddenly half standing and uncomfortably close to the Master's face. "I _save_ people because I want to _help_ them. But sometimes, people like _you_ get in my way and they die. And what do _you_ do? You save people because you _have_ to."

"It's not the same thing," the Master affirmed. "But..."

"But nothing! You always wanted the Time Lords to respect you. You did everything in your power to please them and make them love you because you _needed_ it. You _needed_ them to love you. Inspired by the Schism indeed." Their faces were inches apart, eyes seeing only the other.

The Master licked his dry lips. "They wanted me to be President."

"I know," he said, amused at the very notion. "_You_ as Lord President, _you_ the perfectionist. You would have thrown the entire government into hysterics with your constant nagging."

The Master frowned, the fire returned to his hazel eyes. "I was going to make the Time Lords even greater than they were."

"Oh, and they were _certainly_ great to begin with, weren't they? An empire of tyrants and ash." The Doctor stood, quickly slipping his hands back into his pockets. "You know," he continued, slowly walking around the wheelchair. "I still have that old Chameleon Circuit of yours. Somewhere in one of these coat pockets. Shall I look for it?"

The Master didn't say what he was thinking. _Not like you'd give it back anyway._

"Then again," the Doctor continued. "You _did_ steal my sonic screwdriver all those years ago. Not that I need it anymore."

They were both silent for a very long time, stealing glances at each other's reflections in the window. Finally, the younger spoke, "If I save them... If I make this reality my own. If I shape it in my image, then I can save them all. There will be no more war, no more disease, no more unnecessary death until the end of the universe. Don't you want that, _Master_?"

The Master, as always, didn't reply.

The Doctor angrily turned and left, red shoes padding away on the hard floor.


	10. Family

Another chapter, huzzah! School is getting to be a pain, but I promise to get chapters out as quickly as I can.

* * *

Shonara shut her eyes tight against the glare of the search lights. Keenan wiggled and thrashed in her arms, whining loudly. Shonara hushed her son, then peered through the crack in the boarded up window.

They were in a safe house of sorts, located in eastern Cardiff. It was a dirty, run down house with creaky floor boards and rats in the attic. Dust covered the upper floor; an elderly woman had lived here, not bothering to keep the second floor tidy. Shonara didn't know how many days had passed since the Doctor took over and she really didn't care to. All she knew was that Leo was gone, Keenan now without a father.

Leo had been attacked and killed by the Toclafane while Shonara and their son were running for their lives. She fondly remembered Leo waving a rickety lawn chair at the spheres as a distraction so that they could escape. That had been days ago. Probably weeks. It hadn't really sunk in yet.

"Alright, alright," Shonara hushed her son once again and opened the bag on the floor next to her. She pulled out their provisions, which consisted of what little she could gather from the flat when they'd made the dangerous trek back here, and fed her son first, only taking food for herself when Keenan was full.

She looked back out the window, noticing that the spheres were absent. For now, anyway. A rustling in the opposite corner of the dirty room caught her attention. She watched a small boy of seven sit up, his blond hair ruffled from sleep. His mother was next to him, whispering softly. The boy frowned and Shonara watched his eyes fill with tears. She heard him say that he was hungry, before the mother hushed him quietly.

Shonara opened her bag, taking out their last unopened package of crackers and handing it to her own son. "Keenan, go take this to him, yeah?"

Her son nodded and quickly toddled over, dropping the package in the other boy's lap. The blond boy stared for a moment, then looked around Keenan. Shonara smiled and nodded, signaling that it was okay for him to have them. In a moment that even Shonara laughed at, Keenan abruptly patted the other boy on the head, then ran back to his mother.

The blond boy's mother mouthed a silent but heartfelt "Thank you" as her son began to eat. Shonara nodded a reply and gathered Keenan in her arms, rocking him back and forth slowly. Perhaps they would die here, but if she could help, then she certainly would.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I have a job for you, _Tish_."

Tish grimaced. She carefully set the silver tray of assorted tea cakes and liquid filled china cups on the table to her right, counting her blessings that she hadn't spilled a single drop. The Doctor sat in his chair in front of her, watching her every movement carefully. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to go feed our resident immortal; your mother is busy," the Doctor intoned. It was getting dark outside, but it was never a bad time for tea.

Tish gave him a small bow. "Yes, sir. Right away." She set his tea out for him, then went to fetch Jack's food. She passed her father mopping along the way, giving him a small, comforting look. They had been trying to come up with a way to get the Doctor's laser screwdriver away from him, but so far the Master had come up with nothing. She retained faith in him, despite the odds.

Clive gave his youngest an encouraging smile, though he was now missing three teeth. They would get out of this. Somehow.

Tish made her way to the kitchen to find her mother there, cooking. Francine was preparing something outrageous that the Doctor had demanded. Tish looked around at the guards, then discreetly gave her mother a hug. Francine smiled a bit at the contact, then handed her a container. "Here, Jack's dinner." She looked so old now, eyes dull and sunken in. The wrinkles on her face were deeper than Tish had ever seen, like they had been carved in her skin.

Tish took the container, noticing a discoloration on her mother's wrist. She grabbed it and turned the arm to reveal a large, purple bruise on her underarm that looked suspiciously like the clutched fingers of a hand. "Mum! Did he-"

"Hush now, Tish. Don't make a scene," Francine said softly.

"But Mum!" Tish angrily put Jack's dinner back on the counter. "When did he do this to you?"

Francine was quiet for a long moment, then answered. "This morning, when I brought him his breakfast. I broke a... plate." She blinked and Tish could see the tears in her eyes. She quickly swept her mother in a hug, a display of affection that the guards around them chose to temporarily ignore.

"It's okay, Mum. Martha's still out there, she'll fix everything," Tish said encouragingly, sliding the object in her hand off the counter.

Francine nodded, wiping the fallen tears from her face. "You're right. We just have to keep strong. For her."

Tish nodded. "Martha's the strongest of us all; if anyone can do it, she can." She smiled sadly and kissed her mother on the cheek, gathering Jack's food once again and fetching a spoon. She walked off into the bowels of the ship, serrated knife now in the folds of her apron. Time for that bastard to die.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I've done as you requested, sir," Tish said, approaching the Doctor, who was finishing up his tea. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Actually, _Tish_," he said, emphasizing her name. She hated it when he did that. "I'd like another of this particular kind of tea cake. It's brilliant." He held up the last bit of one before popping it into his mouth.

"Yes, sir. Would you like more than one?"

The Doctor leaned forward in his chair, swallowing the last bite of the delicious cake. "You're unusually polite today," he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Tish said nothing, just watch from the corner of her eye as the Master slowly emerged from his dog house, watching the exchange carefully. The Doctor's fingers rested on the table in front of him, softly tapping out the sound that so tormented him.

"Yes," he replied suddenly, leaning back in the chair as he had before. "Three of them, actually. And more tea." He lifted his feet to rest them on the table, crossed and dangerously close to the teapot.

"Yes, sir. Right away." Tish bowed and took the teapot back to the kitchen. She piled the cakes neatly on a china plate and refilled the pot, taking them both out to the Doctor on a new, silver tray. She crossed behind him, placing the cakes in front of him and slowly pouring him another cup of Earl Gray. She stepped back, allowing him to enjoy his treat without interruption.

The Master watched as she pulled the knife from between her apron and dress, serrated edge glinting in the light from the _Valiant_. His eyes went wide. _Don't, you can't kill him! Idiot!_

"Your acts of courage are tiresome," the Doctor said, slowly turning in his chair to look at Tish, who had the knife raised, ready to strike. She quickly lowered it and stumbled back, almost tripping over her own feet. "I could see your reflection in the china," he sneered, standing quickly and backhanding her as hard as he could.

Tish yelped and raised a hand to her mouth. She could immediately taste the rich, tangy iron of blood. The hand that clutched the knife held it with white knuckles, determined but frozen in place. The Doctor reached into his jacket, withdrawing the laser screwdriver. Tish immediately dropped the knife. The Doctor's face split into a grin. "So heroic, until your own life comes into question. Then you run like a frightened animal." He kicked the knife away, raising the screwdriver to Tish's face, just under her chin. "Good help is so hard to find," he said, eyes glinting like mad. "Don't make me replace you, _Tish_."

"I-I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again, sir. I promise."

He put the screwdriver back in his pocket. "Good. Now get out of my sight," he growled, half wanting to kick her as she left. He watched her go, eyes wide and frightened, hand still on her bleeding mouth.

The Master let out the breath of air he had been holding. Without even glancing at the Doctor, he retreated back into his dog house.

The Doctor shrugged and sat back in his chair, previous demeanor restored, happily eating his tea cakes.


	11. Day 149

The more I write for this story, the more I realize just how many chapters it's going to have. Sorry about the length of this one, though. Hope you all like it!

* * *

"Don't you remember, Koschei?" The Doctor asked the next morning, sipping at the poor excuse for tea from his delicate china cup.

The Master didn't dignify him with any sort of answer. He stayed silent and still; anyone who didn't know better would have thought him asleep with his eyes open.

"I remember," the Doctor continued. "I remember fighting the Daleks. Fighting you." He punctuated the words with deadly venom. "You tried to stop me. But you couldn't." His eyes drifted to the form in the wheelchair. He still hadn't moved a muscle.

The Doctor suddenly stood, slamming his hand down on the table, screaming. "Answer me, Koschei!" He threw the cup at the Master and it shattered loudly against the wheel of his chair. "You couldn't stop me! You couldn't then and you can't now! So why do you keep trying?"

The Master slowly raised his eyes. He blinked slowly, once, twice, then three times. He never spoke a word. The Doctor let a scream of frustration pass his lips and picked up the teapot, throwing it at the opposite wall as hard as he could. It smashed and crumbled to the floor, leaving a large puddle of hot, brown liquid and white china shards. He ran over and grabbed the handles of the Master's chair, wheeling him around and around the table, over and over again.

After several circuits he suddenly stopped, dropping both arms after the chair had ceased to move. A slow, broad grin spread over his face.

"You never told them, did you?" The Doctor sneered. "You never told any of them."

The Master's eyes lifted to stare at the tea-splashed wall, but he kept silent.

"You never told them why we are the last of our kind. Of course... I understand." The Doctor grabbed the handles of the Master's chair, shoving it across the main deck. It wheeled and hit the wall at an angle, sending the elderly Master toppling to the ground near the puddle of tea. The Doctor grinned, eyes wide with voice raised and biting. "You don't trust them, do you? You never did."

The Master didn't reply. He slowly brought his aged form up on his elbows, glaring at the Doctor.

"Oh, look at you," the Doctor said in a patronizing tone. "So old and lost. Lost without the rest of the Time Lords to worship at your feet!"

"That's not true," the Master protested, breathing heavily.

"Oh, but it is!" The Doctor raced across the room, brown coat billowing behind him. He crouched next to the Master's head, looking down, close enough to touch him. "You need to be worshiped, to be loved. It makes sense, after all. Your father-"

"My father has nothing to do with this!" The Master spat angrily, slowly raising himself to his knees.

"Oh-ho-ho! _Please_ excuse my impudence," the Doctor hissed, backhanding the other Time Lord across the face. The Master flinched and lowered his head to the floor, stuck with a sudden coughing fit. The Doctor grinned at his pain.

A long moment passed with the both of them as the only beings in the universe. "I had estates," he said finally, breathing laboriously. The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. There was a long, drawn out pause and he almost forgot to breathe. "I had estates," the Master repeated hoarsely, slowly looking up from the floor. "Pastures of red grass."

"We used to run across those fields forever," the Doctor replied softly, almost wistful. Suddenly, he was startled out of his reverie by the drums of war. He glared at the Master and stood, kicking him hard in the side. He turned away and abruptly exited the flight deck, leaving the Master to the cold floor.

xxxxxxxxxx

That night, the Master dreamed.

_Gallifrey rose before him like a great beast, living and breathing and real. He saw that his hand was small, as he raised it to his face; he was eight years old again. He stumbled through the red grass and ran to the Citadel, but found no one there. The entire place was deserted. There was not a soul to be found. He was alone. He walked through the halls, admiring the paintings and pictures of Headmasters and Presidents long gone._

_ A sound reached his ear and he listened closely. Following the noise, he realized where exactly it was taking him. He walked swiftly to the High Council room, throwing open the grand wooden doors to find- "Mother?"_

_ Lady Oakdown stood alone, her back to him. Her dark hair was let down. She never let her hair down. "Oh, Koschei. We were so proud of you."_

_ "Mother, it's okay. I'm here now. Where's everyone?" He took a cautious step forward, realizing that something was wrong; he was now taller than his mother, his voice deeper._

_ She turned to face him, suddenly dissolving into thin air. The Master rushed forward, watching the ash drift over his arms and away into the air. He saw his hands; old hands, the hands of a 900 year old Time Lord. He was clothed in the garments of the office of Lord President, voices rising from the Council members below. Angry voices that were cursing his name._

_ The doors behind him blew shut, carrying with them the insane laughter of a Time Lord._

The Master startled awake, disoriented and confused. A nightmare, he realized, vivid and dark. His heart rate slowed and he peered around the dog house. No one. He sighed. No more sleep tonight.


	12. Lucy

...This turned out scary. I apologize in advance for this.

* * *

Slowly, Lucy Smith opened her eyes.

The ceiling loomed above her like a flat, mysterious object. She was vaguely aware that the dress she was wearing yesterday still clung to her thin form. She spent several moments peering around the decorated room. Her husband was not here. She slowly sat up, pulling the blanket away from her exposed legs; he always liked her in dresses or skirts.

She stood from the bed, taking in the bruises on her arms with indifference. She could barely remember him making them now. That was the enigma that was the Archangel Network; it helped her forget, but it kept her in chains.

Lucy crossed the room to her wardrobe, choosing an emerald green dress with a low cut top. The black dress she was currently wearing fell to the floor and she stepped into the green. He had picked this dress out for today, just as he picked her clothes every day. She pulled the fabric up and tied the two lengths of cloth around her neck to make the collar, adjusting her hair briefly. She eventually took it down and styled it in a different manner, one that included a hair pin with green sakura flowers.

Suddenly, the door opened wide to reveal her husband in his favorite blue suit. "Lucy, my dear," the Doctor said, mouth spread in a smile. He slowly crossed the room to her and she smiled when he slipped an arm around her waist. He stared into her vacant eyes. "How lovely you look today."

She just smiled wider.

"I have something to show you, Lucy," he said excitedly. Her face took on a quizzical expression, but she said nothing. "It's another dream," he prompted. "This one is so beautiful! Just wait until you see."

Lucy dropped her arm from her husband's shoulder and turned to him silently. She felt the fear deep inside her chest, but she couldn't say a word. He had done this so many times before. He forced her to watch his dreams, his hopes of subjugation and war. The Doctor put his hands on each side of her face, then slowly pressed his forehead against hers.

Fire erupted in Lucy's mind.

_Bright lights and- what was that sound? Soldiers running, running, chasing, yelling, people hiding in fear, protecting their families from the Time Lord Victorious. The sound of crying children, parents who were dead, heads cracked on the pavement, rebels who refused his order and oh god, the baby- don't kill the-_

Lucy gasped and the Doctor frowned, tightening his grip on her face. He forced the dream into her mind, ignoring her faint noises and gasps of discomfort.

_The sky, so dark and full of smog, dead animals, forests burning and deserts crying, ships descending from above, crushing the native species beneath their landing gear. Screams and blood and panic and don't you dare shoot her, she's preg-_

Lucy felt an involuntary tear slide down her cheek and the Doctor abruptly broke the contact, frowning angrily. He lowered his hands to her shoulders and spun, throwing her onto the bed as hard as he could muster. Lucy quickly backed away from him, ending up near their pillows. The Doctor watched her with silent revulsion. "Lucy... You don't understand, do you?" He quickly crossed the room to sit next to her on the bed. "This is the only way I can save them. I have to take over every planet, crush every rebellion. I can shape this universe to my will, Lucy. Don't you want that?"

Lucy just stared at him, eyes empty of all emotion. He watched her unchanging face and frowned. The Doctor clenched his teeth and stood from the bed, anger finally boiling over. "You don't get it do you?" He grabbed her wrist tightly and she gasped in pain. He pulled her up and toward him, pressing her body against his. She felt the fear in her chest rise to an unbearable level as he kissed her harshly, pulling the bow behind her neck to expose her chest. She whimpered and he immediately drew back, shoving her back onto the bed.

"Like I'd ever touch a human like that." He said angrily, then turned and left.

Lucy grabbed the pillow nearest to her and clutched it tightly to her chest as she sat up. John hadn't even... Not even on their wedding night. He had said something about Earth females disliking the act, which suited him just fine. She had wondered long ago if perhaps children would be in their future, but she didn't even know if he could father a child across two species, nor did she want him to any longer. But she had been so afraid; just for a moment, it seemed as though he might...

"Lucy."

Her head snapped up to see him standing in the door, the perfect vision of calm.

"Get up, Lucy. It's morning now. You do want your breakfast, don't you? Hurry up, or I'll have to feed it to Grandpa again."

Lucy nodded quickly, properly tying her dress once more. She placed the pillow back on the bed and stood, slipping into the heeled shoes that were waiting for her. The Archangel Network helped her forget even now. She slowly crossed the room and took the arm he offered her, the back of her mind still buzzing with the terrible things that were to come.


	13. Day 231

Short again. Oh well. It's compacted angst!

* * *

"You know," prompted the Doctor. "Your Miss Jones is apparently still alive. She is to be congratulated on her persistence."

The Master sat in his wheelchair, breathing as well as he could considering his physical condition. He hated feeling old and decrepit, but there was nothing to be done. Outside, the Toclafane floated lazily in the air.

"Oh, and you," the Doctor said, walking around the wheelchair in a lazy circle, hands in his pockets. "You do so hate them, don't you?" The Master didn't move. "Not the humans," the Doctor added. "I meant our people. You hated them."

The Master frowned. His skin felt like parchment.

"Oh, but you did!" The Doctor crouched in front of the other Time Lord, elbows on his knees with elegant fingers folded. "You hated them because they made you chase me. All across the stars we ran. They made you stop me, and for what? For the Presidency? For admiration? The only reason they picked you was because you knew me," he spat. "They didn't care. They never did. And you thought that doing what they said would make them love you."

The Master stared at a spot on the floor.

"Always the guard dog, always _fetching_ the ball. A Time Lord like you so _inspired _by the Untempered Schism surely had better things to do. But I know you," the Doctor said, leaning closer. "I know that you began to hate them, hate time, hate everything that you ended up with because it was so much less than what you felt that you deserved. Isn't that right, Master?"

The Master's expression didn't change. Hazel eyes stared into brown for an indeterminate amount of time before the Doctor stood and smugly walked away.

xxxxxxxxxx

"This is their price for insubordination."

The Master spoke not a word. A small group of humans in Japan had broken away from the Doctor's hypnosis and attacked the Valiant itself, sending half a dozen missiles that would have destroyed something twice its size. His defiant cackle had haunted Francine in her sleep. He had sent his Toclafane in response, colliding over the ocean in a blaze of fire. The radioactive wreckage had killed so much sea life.

Far below them, Japan burned. The crystalline blue water surrounding the country was marred by black smoke, floating over the land like a blanket of death. The aged Master sat in his chair next to the Doctor, who was watching the land crisp in satisfaction. Not even the small islands were spared.

Francine, Clive, and Tish stood at the window at the command of the Doctor, watching with glazed eyes as the people burned. Clive stared. Tish prayed. Francine cried.

"Isn't it glorious?" The Doctor asked, slowly crouching to bring himself eye level with the Master. The three humans next to them wisely said nothing.

"You can stop," the Master said slowly. His voice was hoarse; he hadn't spoken in almost two weeks.

"Stop? Why should I stop? They were trying to keep me from saving everyone," he replied angrily. Accusingly. He stood and glared at the three members of the Jones family. "Back to work!"

They complied quickly, thankful for an excuse to move away from the window. They would not sleep tonight.

The Doctor briefly turned his anger on the Master. "And you, you've tried to stop me more times than anyone else. Why would you do that, Koschei?"

As always, the Master said nothing. He had asked this question every day since 8:02 that morning. In the past, the answer in his head had always been the same. _Because I have to._

Over the course of these many days, though they were just a blip in his long life, the Master's answer was slowly beginning to change.


	14. Martha

**Author Note****:** When the site was messing up I posted a chapter, so the chapter before this one, titled "Day 231", wasn't able to be read during that time. I don't want you all to end up missing a chapter, so if you haven't read that one yet, _please_ do. It's _very_ important for the development of the Master's character. Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved and appreciated!

* * *

Martha wrapped her arms tightly around herself, teeth chattering against the cold wind.

She was in southern Russia, carefully walking the snow dusted ground, thankful that it wasn't mud. She didn't want to go through _that_ again. She raised a hand to her mouth and coughed. She hoped she wasn't getting sick; she didn't feel ill, but there was an annoying tickle at the back of her throat.

She had just left the town of Karymskoye, one of the few places that the Doctor's hand had barely touched, and was now heading to Zima. She had carefully tracked the days since she regretfully left Jack, the Master, and her family on the Valiant, but at this particular moment, she didn't care. She realized that this was a job very few could do, but that didn't mean she liked the idea of leaving her family behind. Seeing all of these people made her heart ache.

She realized very early into her journey that the TARDIS key also gave her an intimate link back to the machine, who was still translating every word for her, fighting back against the Doctor's iron fist. She could talk to everyone and spread the information that the Master had whispered in her ear all those days ago. She counted this as a blessing, but couldn't help wondering just how everyone in the _Valiant_ was doing, a question that the time machine couldn't answer for her even if it wanted to.

Martha didn't mind walking. It wasn't the constant movement or lack of sleep that bothered her. The gun in four parts, scattered across the planet, was what bothered her. She didn't think that the Doctor would be so stupid as to believe it. UNIT would never have been able to create such a device simply because they had no access to any information on Time Lord physiology; there was no way in hell the Master would have let them within ten feet of him with anything like medical equipment, much less told them any information about how to kill him. Nevertheless, she continued on her quest, faithfully executing the Master's instructions.

She noted many things as she walked along. Things like cars, lampposts, and certain buildings had been swiftly torn down for their metal components. Many of the lovely architectural landmarks in the cities in Europe had been melted down for use in the Doctor's warships. She knew the rest of the planet was yet to come. They had even scavenged across Japan after it burned, the Doctor demanding every scrap of metal, brushing off the fact that the radiation from their nuclear power plants was leaking into the cities and poisoning everyone that had the misfortune to still be alive. She had yet to visit Japan; it was her eventual destination. She just hoped there was a way to avoid the radiation poisoning herself.

She remembered walking across the radiation pits of Europe, stinking and filthy. The other humans never saw her unless she spoke to them, which she made a point only of doing when they were at rest. She would creep through barbed wire, guards, and minefields, silently infiltrating the diseased encampments that the Doctor created for her people, speaking to them in hushed tones about the future and how it would be changed.

They fed and clothed her, something that she was extremely grateful for. She only took as much as she needed, never a scrap more. She made a point to smile at the children and reassure them that everything was going to be okay. They could do it, it was easy; they just had to spread the word and count the days.

Every time, the men, women, and children nodded silently and watched her leave, hoping fervently that she was right.


	15. Day 357

This chapter... I don't even know. Really, I don't.

* * *

"We've had the best of times though, haven't we Master?"

The Master's frowning face slowly tilted upward, watching the Doctor closely through tired eyes. He made not a sound, having to listen to the other Time Lord's words, words that were meant to enrage him. But he was old now, only capable of so much anger at once. That just made the Doctor try harder.

"Do you remember?" The Doctor prompted, sliding into a chair. "I remember that day, oh so long ago here on Earth. We were both different back then. Different faces. You with that ridiculous cape." He let a maniac giggle pass his lips. The Master delved into his memories, but his mind was foggy. He couldn't put a finger on what exactly the Doctor was talking about. There had been so many days...

"Long before Gallifrey burned," the Doctor continued. He lifted the cup of tea in front of him to his lips, sipping at the hot liquid. He ran his tongue over his teeth before continuing. "I remember going after the Pharaohs in Egypt. The American leaders in the Civil War. The man who claimed to be the Messiah." He paused, resisting the urge to turn and gaze into the Master's wrinkled face. "My most fond memory was the day I took my TARDIS to July of 1889, to Braunau am Inn in Austria-Hungary."

The Master's face immediately fell dark, eyes bright in contrast. He remembered. It hadn't been a happy day by any means.

"You and your _pet_ humans," the Doctor continued. The humans were pets to no one, but the Doctor always fancied the Master a lover of the apes. He did, after all, take quite a few of them traveling with him. "You wouldn't let me kill him," the Doctor said, recalling the scene in the small house. He suddenly turned in his chair, staring into the Master's hazel eyes with intense confusion. "I don't understand, Master. Why wouldn't you let me kill him? Why did you stop me?"

_ A maniacal grin spread over the Doctor's face like a Cheshire cat, eyes wide with insanity. The gun in his hand was lowered to the level of the baby's head, the parents of this child frantic and pleading. The Master stood nearby, trying to entice him to put the weapon down. The Doctor's grin spread wider, if that was even possible. "I take this life, that others may live!"_

_ "No, you can't!" The Master tried to shrug off both parents that were trying to push past him into the bedroom, but they were strong. The Doctor would surely shoot if the parents provoked him. "Doctor, please stop. You know that you can't do this. This is fixed in time, this child must live!"_

_ "Live?" The Doctor spat, suddenly lowering the gun to stare into the Master's eyes. "This child will kill millions some day. I can stop it. I can save all of them!"_

_ "You know this isn't right. Come back with me to Gallifrey. The Time Lords-"_

_ "Ha, Time Lords! They only want to lock me up. No Time Lords. This child must die." He raised the gun again, swiftly putting pressure on the trigger._

_ "No!" The Master lunged forward, grabbing the Doctor's arm and pulling it upward. The shot was like nothing the family had ever heard before. A spot on the top of their wall was emitting putrid smoke, shot by a laser. The two Time Lords wrestled with the gun before the Master managed to knock it from the Doctor's hand. It fell to the floor, where the child's father swiftly picked it up, aiming it at the man who had tried to kill his son._

_ "You, Doctor man! You will endanger my family no longer!" He pulled the trigger._

_ The Doctor swiftly hooked his foot behind the Master's leg, stepping behind the other Time Lord. He smiled satisfactorily when the Master's cry of pain wrenched the air. He would regenerate soon, of course, but that left him more than enough time to dispose of the child._

_ The baby's mother had since scooped him from his bed, speaking softly to him. "Hush now, Adolf. Mother is here..."_

_ The Doctor frowned, tossing the Master's dying body onto the floor. The father had his gun, the mother his target. He had failed, it seemed. He had no other weapons, not even his sonic screwdriver. That had been stolen on his last "adventure" with the Master. He quickly searched the other Time Lord's pockets for it, but found nothing._

_ The Master was gasping and searching for air, his lungs filled with a burning so intense that it made his eyes water. His regeneration was coming soon, very soon. Almost too quickly. He saw the Doctor from the corner of his eye. The baby's father took aim and fired, but the Doctor had crossed the room and jumped from the open window to disappear into the warm Summer night._

"I never did know," the Doctor continued, letting the Master soak up the memory. "What did his family do to you after you regenerated in their son's bedroom?"

The Master was silent. They had gruffly thanked him for saving their son, but decided him a monster and begged him to leave. He had meant to put an alarm of sorts on the child, but they wouldn't let him. Just as well. The Doctor wasn't one to try the same thing twice. He had other people to kill. The Master could always track him either way; his TARDIS was far more reliable.

The Doctor rose from his chair, swallowing the last drop of tea and licking his lips. "I wonder what you would have done if I really had killed him," he mused. He set the cup on the arm of the Master's wheelchair like a counter top, then slipped his hands in his pockets, walking away.

Before exiting the flight deck, he turned back to the Master once more, who hadn't moved a muscle. "Oh, and Master? Make sure to wash that for me, will you?" His insane laughter echoed down the hall as he left.


	16. Savior

Back into the fray once again! The Year That Never Was is now over, but I have much more angst in store for everyone's two favorite Time Lords.

I apologize for the long wait between chapters. I've had a lot of school work lately and I didn't feel like writing anything after the loss we have suffered... Rest In Peace, dear Elisabeth.

* * *

Martha Jones trailed her dark eyes over the English shoreline. It had been a year, one long, impossible year since she had been on British soil. The small boat pulled up to the shore and she thanked the driver before jumping into the cold, shallow water. She quickly trudged through the waves and onto the sand of the beach where a man with a truck was waiting for her. A rather handsome man, she noted carefully. She approached, watching him hold his lantern a bit higher over his head.

She nodded a greeting. "What's your name, then?"

"Thomas Milligan," the man answered. "No need to ask who you are, the famous Martha Jones. You've been gone a while."

She nodded again. "365 days. It's been a hell of a year."

Tom turned to lead her up the beach to his vehicle, the lantern swaying with every step. "So what's the plan then?"

"There's this Professor, named Docherty. I need to see her," she insisted. "Can you get me there?" She quickly followed him, time being of the utmost importance.

"She works in a repair shed, Nuclear Plant 7. I can get you inside." He paused, curious. "What's all this for? What's so important about her?"

Martha shook her head. "The more you know, the more you're at risk." The expression on Tom's face became one of slight indignation. "Sorry," she added. "Can't have anyone else getting killed."

"There's a lot of people depending on you," he continued, ignoring her apology. "You're a bit of a legend."

"And what does the legend say?" she asked, half amused and half sad.

"That you sailed the Atlantic, walked across America. That you're the only person to get out of Japan alive. 'Martha Jones', they say, 'She's gonna save the world.' Bit late for that," he added bitterly.

They finally approached his car and Martha eyed it critically. "How come you can drive? Don't you get stopped?" She opened the passenger side door and tossed her pack in.

"Medical staff. Used to be in pediatrics back in the old days. But that gives me a license to travel so I can help out at the labor camps," he said, walking to the driver's side and climbing in.

"Great," she replied, the terrible irony not lost on her. "I'm traveling with a doctor."

She climbed into the seat and waited, but Tom didn't start the truck. Instead, he turned to look at her. "Story goes, that you're the only person on Earth who can kill him. That you, and you alone, can kill the Doctor stone dead."

She turned her gaze to the road. "Please, just drive."

xxxxxxxxxx

The aircraft carrier _Valiant_ floated high in the clouds, the sun shining on this unusually bright day. The Doctor was striding around the deck, humming a tune to himself. Lucy seemed content to watch him pace around, hands in his pockets. Francine and Tish were busy washing the deck. Francine paused to clean up the teapot and dishes from the Doctor's tea break. The Master watched her go, discreetly holding up three fingers as she walked passed. She didn't nod, but resolutely kept walking.

Tish watched her mother go, then returned to scrubbing the deck. She just hoped their plan would work. She watched as the Doctor approached the Master and hoisted him into his wheelchair like a sack of flour. He dragged the Master up the stairs and to the window view they often shared, looking out on the destruction of the planet Earth and the war ships that the Doctor had finished building.

"It's ready to rise, Master. My new empire, an empire of safety and life. It's good, isn't it? Isn't it good? Anything? No?" The Master said nothing, but kept his eyes on the many Toclafane that were floating by the window. Their lights flashed and flickered, seemingly at random; they reminded him of stars. "Oh, but you worked out what they really are, didn't you? And it's all your fault, isn't it, Master?" The Doctor paused, moving to stand next to him. "They say Martha Jones has come back home. Now why would she do that? Hm?"

The other Time Lord stayed silent, just as he always did. The Doctor quickly spun the chair one hundred and eighty degrees, trying and failing to get the Master to look him in the eye. "On the day I took control_... _What did you tell her?" He patiently waited for an answer, but got nothing. The Doctor frowned and stood again, walking away from the window and down the stairs, leaving the Master fairly well stranded up on the platform. "Come on, people!" he yelled at Francine and the guards. "What are we doing? Launch Day is in 24 hours!"

xxxxxxxxxx

Martha and Tom had stopped at the edge of a rocket field. Martha wanted to see just what it looked like here; she hadn't seen it before. They parked near a huge, carved statue of the Doctor. "All over the Earth, those things. He's even carved his face into Mount Rushmore." She scrambled up the incline to peer over the small hill and down to the field of ships.

"The entire south coast of England, converted into shipyards," Tom explained. "They bring in slave labor every morning_. _Break up cars, houses, anything, just for the metal. Building a fleet out of scrap." They were quiet for a moment, taking in the sight of the ships, as far as they could see.

Martha broke the silence. "You should see Russia. That's Shipyard Number One. All the way from the Black Sea to the Bering Strait. There's 100,000 rockets ready for war."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "War? With who?"

"The rest of the universe," she said, and he rolled his eyes. "I've been out there, Tom! In space, before all this happened. There's a thousand different civilizations all around us with no idea what's happening here. The Doctor can build weapons big enough to devastate them all."

"You've been in space?" he asked, incredulous. Martha noted that his face was a bit cute with that expression.

"Got a problem with that?"

"No, no. Just... Wow," he said, scratching his head. "Anything else I should know?"

"I've met Shakespeare," she offered. A metallic sounding whirr caught Tom's ear and he spun to find two Toclafane approaching them. Martha stayed perfectly still.

"Identify yourself, little man!" The first Toclafane demanded. Its voice sounded decidedly male.

"I've got a license!" He pulled out his wallet to show them and Martha stayed still. "My name is Thomas Milligan, Peripatetic Medical Squad. I'm allowed to travel. I was just checking-"

"Soon the rockets will fly and everyone will need medicine." The second Toclafane, a female. "You'll be so busy!" The silver orbs let out a robotic laugh and flew away.

Tom sighed in relief, turning to Martha. "They didn't see you. How is that?"

Martha carefully reached beneath the collar of her shirt and grabbed a worn string, pulling out a small key. "How do you think I traveled the world?" Tom just raised an eyebrow at the key. How could something like that possibly afford protection against the Doctor? Before he could voice this question, Martha was up and walking back to the truck. He quickly followed as she explained. "The Doctor set up Archangel, that mobile network. 15 satellites around the planet, but really it's transmitting a low-level psychic field. That's how everyone got hypnotized into thinking he was John Smith."

"Smith," he murmured. "Feels like ages ago."

"But they key's tuned in to the same frequency as the psychic field," she continued. "Makes me sort of... unnoticeable, just not invisible."

"But I can see you," Tom protested, almost tripping on a patch of gravel.

"That's because you wanted to," she said, a bit more mischievously than she intended.

Tom blushed slightly. "Yeah, I suppose I did."

Martha cleared her throat quietly as they approached his truck. "Is there a Mrs. Milligan?"

"No, no. What about you?" Tom opened the door and tossed his lantern in first.

"Well... There used to be someone. Sort of." She paused, thinking back to the Time Lord that was imprisoned on the _Valiant_. She still wasn't entirely certain of her feelings for the Master, beyond that there was _something_ there. This year of walking had given her a lot of time to think. She wasn't sure she wanted a life with someone who wouldn't get old with her. She used to think otherwise, but... Getting old was a luxury in this paradoxical world she lived in. She saw it every day, people killed in their prime. Perhaps she'd enjoy her old age, with someone special. "Anyway, come on. We've gotta find Professor Docherty."

"We'll have to wait until the next work shift," Tom explained. "What time is it now?"

"Three o'clock," Martha replied, climbing into the vehicle. "On the dot."

Tom nodded and climbed in the truck after her, revving the engine and driving off.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Hmm," the Doctor mused, back to walking the deck of the _Valiant_ in large, lazy circles. "Boredom strikes at the most inopportune times, doesn't it?" He asked Lucy, who smiled vacantly back at him. He crossed to her and gently put a hand beneath her chin, lifting it to look at her face that was marred with bruises. He frowned. "You were so much more beautiful before." Lucy drew her head back in indignation, but said nothing.

The clock caught the Doctor's eye and he rubbed his hands together. "Massage time, Lucy!" He shed his coat and his loyal, but insulted wife draped it over the back of a chair.

Suddenly the alarms in the _Valiant_ began blaring, red lights flashing and the guards were confused; this had never happened before. "What the-"

Tish quickly lunged for the Doctor's coat and tossed it to the Master, who began going through the expansive pockets for the laser screwdriver. She let herself have a small smile of satisfaction that her mother's communication had succeeded. She wasn't entirely sure how Jack had fared; he hadn't been himself for a long time.

The Master pulled out the screwdriver, aiming it at the Doctor, who was standing next to the table with his hands in his pockets. Casual. Nonchalant. The Master immediately became aware of the fact that the screwdriver didn't work. There was something he didn't know.

The Doctor stood for a long moment, watching the Master fail over and over again. His dark eyes were glazed and impassive, but they held an angry fire just beyond the surface. He slowly crossed the room, walked up the stairs, and gently took the screwdriver from the other Time Lord. "Isomorphic controls," he sneered. "It only works for me." He punched the Master across his left cheek and Tish muffled a gasp. He turned and fired it at the woman, barely a foot from her head. She screamed. "Say you're sorry!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry..." Tish clutched her hands to her chest to quell her frantic heart. At that moment, Francine returned from her trip to the kitchen and the Doctor quickly turned on her from the upper platform, screwdriver poised to strike.

"And you had so much hope, didn't you?" He grinned malevolently. He watched as Tish quickly crossed the room to her mother, in order to protect her. He frowned and the arm holding the device dropped. "Pathetic. Didn't you learn anything from your blessed Martha? Siding with the Master is a very dangerous thing to do." Lucy climbed the steps and approached him, bending down to pick up and hand him his trenchcoat, to which he gave her a thank you in the form of a very involved kiss. He broke the contact and took in Tish and Francine almost as an afterthought. He nodded to the guards behind them. "Take them away."

"No!" Francine and her daughter struggled in vain as the guards cuffed them and took them away. The Doctor smiled in satisfaction. He shrugged his coat on and pocketed the screwdriver. Lucy smiled at him and watched the two women being escorted out.

The Doctor crossed to the Master, leaning one hand on each of the armrests of the Time Lord's wheelchair and staring him straight in the face. "You know," he began conversationally. "Do you know, I remember the days when the Master was waging a Time War. The last Time War. The war to end all wars. Battling Sea Devils and Axons. He sealed the rift at the Medusa Cascade single-handed." The Doctor paused. "And look at him now. Stealing _screwdrivers_. How did he ever come to this? Oh yeah. Me!" He laughed uproariously and the Master's gaze lifted.

"I need you to stop," he rasped.

"No, it's my turn," the Doctor spat angrily, glaring at the other Time Lord like a feral beast. "Revenge! Best served hot. And this time, it's a message for Miss Martha."


	17. Master

Holy crap, Martha has a heart in this chapter. I thought her reaction to the truth about the Toclafane in the actual episode was ridiculously inappropriate. So I fixed it.

* * *

The location of Professor Docherty's lab wasn't a huge secret, but it was a difficult place to infiltrate. Tom carefully cut the fence with wire cutters, Martha keeping a look out for the Toclafane. They crawled through the small opening and ran across the sparse field leading to Nuclear Plant 7. After dodging a few of the flying metal spheres, they managed to find the entrance and crept quietly inside. Following the sound of swearing, they came upon a woman who looked to be in her fifties or sixties. She had short, white hair and skin that was wrinkled with age and stress. Tom approached her and cleared his throat. "Hello? Professor Docherty?"

"Busy," the woman replied, fiddling with what looked like a broken television.

"They, uh, they sent word ahead," he explained. "I'm Tom Milligan. And this is Martha Jones."

"She can be the Queen of Sheba for all I care," Docherty replied grumpily. "I'm still busy." The strap around her forehead carried a light and she turned it on, illuminating some of the shadows in her laboratory, if it could even be called one. There were piles of broken electronic equipment stacked to the ceiling, wires and sellotape sticking out from every angle. The table in front of them carried what looked like some sort of project, but it looked just as dilapidated as the rest of the things in the room. The older woman gave the television a good whack in frustration.

"Televisions don't work anymore," Martha offered gently.

"Oh God, I miss _Countdown_," she continued, as if Martha hadn't spoken at all. "Hasn't been the same since Des took over. Both Deses." She trailed off, talking to herself. "What's the plural of Des? Desii? Deseen?" She shook her head and seemed to suddenly recognize the existence of the two people standing next to her. "But we've been told there's gonna be a transmission. From the man himself!" She slammed her hand against the side of the television and it burst into a flurry of black and white static. She groaned and hit it again. "Ah! There!" The picture on screen gradually took the shape of the Doctor on the flight deck of the _Valiant_, all smiles and malice.

"My people." The Doctor stood in front of the camera, hands in his pockets and looking quite pleased with himself. "Salutations on this, the eve of subjugation_._ But I know there's all sorts of whispers down there. On the ground. Stories of a child walking the Earth, giving you hope." The Jones family watched from the cell that the Doctor had thrown them into that very morning. Francine and Clive held their hands together, praying that their daughter was indeed still alive. Tish wanted nothing more than to see the smiling faces of her brother and sister.

Jack was unconscious. The Doctor had invaded his mind yet again, continuing his routine of administering this Hell every other day. Jack had somehow retained his sanity, but barely. It would soon crack like the fragile shell of an egg and he would be tainted with the malice of a Time Lord. He hoped that he would go insane, if only to never look at himself in a mirror and hate what he was.

"But I ask you," the Doctor continued, speaking into the camera with authority. "How much hope has this man got?" He stood back to reveal the Master in his wheelchair, wrinkled and tired. "Say hello, Grandpa. Except he's not _that_ old," he explained to the few humans watching. "He's actually an alien with a much greater lifespan than you stunted, little apes. And... what if it showed?" He turned to the Master, laser screwdriver poised like a conductor's baton. "What if I suspend your capacity to regenerate? All 900 years of your life, Master. What if we could see them?"

The three in the Nuclear Plant watched as the Doctor took aim and fired. The Master felt helpless as the screwdriver suspended his ability to regenerate, aging his body further and further. "Older and older and older." The Jones family watched in pure horror as their only means of escape was made more and more helpless by the second, thrashing and twisting in pain. "Down you go, Master! Down, down, down you go..." The bundle of clothes that had been the Master slipped off the wheelchair, tumbling to the floor. It did not move. "Master?" The Doctor pocketed the screwdriver and approached the clothes carefully, honestly unsure of what he would find. The pile slowly began to move and a small, humanoid creature emerged. He looked rather like a small elf of some kind, or perhaps a troll, with huge hazel eyes. It was most certainly the Master, who looked down at his hands in horror. The Doctor let a satisfied smile cross his face and returned to the camera. "Received and understood, Miss Martha?"

The transmission ended abruptly and none of them spoke for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," Tom murmured.

Martha just smiled, reveling in the wave of relief that encompassed her body. "The Master is still alive."

"Obviously the Archangel Network would seem to be the Doctor's greatest weakness," Docherty said, scratching her head. "15 satellites all around Earth, still transmitting. That's why there's so little resistance. It's broadcasting a telepathic signal that keeps people scared."

"We could just take them out," Tom suggested briskly.

"We could," she conceded. "15 ground-to-air missiles. You got any on you?" Tom blushed. "Besides, any military action, the Toclafane descend."

"They're not called Toclafane," Martha said. "That's a name the Doctor made up."

"What are they, then?" Docherty demanded.

"That's why I came to find you," she explained. "Know your enemy. I've got this." She pulled a computer disc out of her pocket and Docherty eyed it with confusion and doubt. "No one's been able to look at a sphere close up. They can't even be damaged. Except once. A lightning strike in South Africa brought one of them down just by chance. And I've got the readings on this."

Docherty's face lit up and she quickly took the disc, slotting it into the computer to her right. It fussed just as much as the television and she hit it several times before it began to read the disc. "Whoever thought we'd miss Bill Gates," she mumbled.

"So is that why you traveled the world?" Tom asked. "To find a disc?"

Martha shook her head. "Just got lucky."

"I heard stories that you walked the Earth to find a way to build a weapon." Professor Docherty turned to Martha, whose dark eyes gave nothing away. The computer suddenly beeped and recaptured the Professor's attention. "There we are! A current of 58.5 kilo amperes transferred a charge of 510 megajoules precisely."

"Can you recreate that?" Tom asked anxiously.

"I think so," she replied, her brain running through possibilities. "Yes, easily!"

"Alright then!" Martha said excitedly. "We're gonna get us a sphere!"

xxxxxxxxxx

An hour later, Tom was holding a gun nervously in his right hand. They were outside Nuclear Plant 7, standing among piles of rusty metal that the Doctor could do nothing with, and so discarded. "Are you sure this is going to work?" He asked Martha, who was standing at the far end of the trash yard at the entrance to the Professor's workshop.

"I'm sure!" She looked around the corner at Professor Docherty, who was setting up the electric field that would knock the Toclafane out of the sky. "Ready?"

"Ready!" The Professor gave Martha a thumbs up and she nodded.

"She's ready Tom! Whenever you are!"

Tom breathed a heavy sigh, then raised the gun to the air and pulled the trigger three times. Almost immediately, the whirr of a metal sphere reached his ear and one of the Toclafane descended, flying toward him with its blades extended. Tom quickly ran for his life.

"Professor, he's almost here!" Martha grabbed Tom's hand as he rounded the corner, pulling him in the correct direction. The sphere was right behind them, but the electric field was perfectly timed. The metal machine fell to the ground with a dull thud. The Professor cheered and Martha grinned, giving her a much deserved hug of thanks.

"Now..." She said, approaching the device and hefting it off the ground. "Time to see what's inside it."

xxxxxxxxxx

On the _Valiant_, the Doctor walked arm in arm with Lucy, approaching the Master's new home. He had been upgraded from a doghouse to a bird cage, stuck behind cold metal and clasps. The Doctor grinned at him. "Tomorrow, they launch. We're opening up a rift in Braccatolian space," he explained. "They won't see us coming. Kinda _scary_."

"Then stop," the Master said, his voice soft and timid, not at all befitting a Time Lord.

"Once my empire is established with a new Gallifrey in the heavens, then maybe it stops." The Doctor eyed his ex-friend. "The drumming, Master. The never-ending drumbeat that demands so much. I give what I can."

"You don't have to," the Master insisted quietly.

"Ever since I was a child. I looked into the vortex. That's when it chose me. The drumming, the call for universal subjugation. Domination. Can't you hear it? Listen, it's there now. Right now. Tell me you can hear it, Master. Tell me." He rested his head against the metal of the cage, staring into the large eyes of his Time Lord counterpart.

"It's just you," he said quietly. His throat was dry and it hurt.

The Doctor almost snorted in indifference. "Good."

The door to the bridge opened and a Toclafane with a female voice floated in, all flashing lights and cold metal. "Tomorrow, the war. Tomorrow we rise. Never to fall!"

"You see, Master? I'm doing it for them!" The Doctor stared into the Master's eyes and the latter could see that the Doctor truly thought he was doing good. "You should be grateful! After all, you love them. So very, very much."

xxxxxxxxxx

Professor Docherty made a noise of frustration as she slid the flat metal piece into the seam of the machine. "I can't get it open. There's some sort of magnetic clamp. Let's see... I'll trip the_- _Oh my God!" The sphere popped open, the top folding down like flower petals. Tom and Martha looked to the Professor, who had jumped back and now held a hand to her beating heart. They cautiously crept forward and peered down into it.

The head of a humanoid creature was inside. Its face looked wet and oily, eyes closed and skin yellowed like parchment. Its face looked sunken in, as if deprived of food before it had been decapitated. As they observed the creature inside, the sphere suddenly lit up and the face open its eyes. Tom and Martha immediately jumped back in surprise, the latter covering her mouth to muffle a shout.

"It's alive..." Professor Docherty cautiously approached it again, peering down at the face with a mixture of pity and revulsion. Tom and Martha quickly followed suit.

"Martha," the sphere said. "Martha Jones."

Martha paled. "It knows my name?"

"Sweet, kind Martha Jones. You helped us to fly!"

"What do you mean?" she demanded. It knew her, but how?

"You led us to salvation!" the sphere explained, seemingly pleased with itself.

"Who are you?"

"The skies are made of diamonds," it said.

Martha gasped, hand flying to her mouth in horror. "No... it can't be you." She felt her stomach turn, but pushed back the urge to be sick on Docherty's floor.

"We share each other's memories," the Toclafane explained. "You sent him to Utopia!"

"Oh my God..." Her vision became cloudy and she shut her eyes, silent tears spilling down her face. For all of the walking she had done, for all of the humans she had helped, for all of the things she had seen, it did not lessen her urge to cry at tragedies. This was nothing short of unbearable.

She had made a vow to herself upon beginning this journey. She had promised that no matter what she saw, she would not become desensitized to this world. She did not want to look on dying children with indifference. She did not want to give families missing their mothers and fathers looks of vacancy. No matter how much it hurt, she would make herself _feel_. She was a human being; she would not give the Doctor the satisfaction of acclimatizing her to the atmosphere of war.

"What's it talking about?" Tom asked, clearly confused. "What does it mean?"

"What are they?" Docherty prompted, looking to Martha for an answer.

Martha shook her head, more tears falling. "Martha," Tom said soothingly. "Tell us. What are they?"

She sniffed, blinking several times to push back the tears in her eyes. "They're us," she explained softly. "They're humans. The human race from the future."

xxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor sat in his chair on the deck of the _Valiant_, Lucy standing not far from him. He faced the birdcage that the Master sat in, speaking to him casually. "I took Lucy to Utopia. A Time Lord and his human companion," he smirked. "I took her to see the stars. Isn't that right, darling?"

Lucy turned her eyes to the Master, eyes that were vacant and emotionless. She teetered on her own feet, as if they couldn't quite support her any longer. "Trillions of years into the future. To the end of the universe."

"Tell him what you saw."

"Dying," she said, and suddenly her voice was dripping with emotion. The Archangel Network was letting her feel, truly _feel_, and it was killing her. "Everything dying. The whole of creation was falling apart. And I thought..." She paused and the Master watched her carefully. He saw the emotion drain from her face, as if it had never been. She felt relieved; she didn't want to feel anymore. "There's no point. No point to anything. Not ever."

"And it's your fault," the Doctor said, watching the light disappear from the Master's eyes. "You should have seen it, Master. Furnaces, burning. The last of humanity screaming at the dark."

"There was no solution, no diamonds," the sphere said, lights flashing. "Just the dark and the cold."

"All that human invention that had sustained them across the eons. It all turned inwards," the Doctor explained, watching hazel crumble. "They cannibalized themselves."

The sphere made a sound that resembled a child's giggle. "We made ourselves so pretty."

"Regressing into children," he continued. "But it didn't work. The universe was collapsing around them."

"But then the Master came with his wonderful time machine to bring us back home."

"My masterpiece. A living TARDIS, strong enough to hold the paradox in place, allowing the past and the future to collide in infinite majesty." The Doctor smugly sipped at his tea.

"You're changing history," the Master rasped. "Not just Earth, the entire universe."

"I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor said angrily, almost snapping the handle of the china cup. "I have that right."

"Why come all this way just to destroy?"

"We've come backwards in time to build a brand new empire lasting 100 trillion years," the sphere laughed.

"With me as their _master_." The Doctor's grin was wide, voice mocking. "Time Lord and humans combined. Haven't you always dreamt of that?" He stood from his chair and slipped his arm around Lucy's waist. "The human race. Greatest monsters of them all. Night-night!" The two of them turned to leave and the sphere followed them away.

xxxxxxxxxx

"So they're... us," Tom repeated for the fourth time.

Martha nodded. "I'd sort of worked it out, with the paradox machine. Because the Master said on the day before the Doctor came to power that he had the TARDIS, this time machine, but the only other place he could go was the end of the universe. So he found Utopia." She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued. "The Utopia Project was the last hope. Trying to find a way of escaping the end of everything. He promised to bring them to safety... I never imagined..." She let another tear slide past her eyelid and Tom looked sympathetically at her.

"But that's a paradox," Docherty said. "If you're the future of the human race, and you've come back to murder your ancestors, you should cancel yourselves out. You shouldn't exist."

"And that's the paradox machine," Martha said softly.

"What about us?" Tom asked, addressing the human head inside the metal orb. "You're killing us. Why are you doing that?"

"Because it's fun!" The "Toclafane" erupted in a fit of echoing laughter, haunting and morbid. Tom quickly raised the gun and shot it before either Martha or Docherty could stop him. Neither of the two said a word.

After a moment, Docherty silently motioned for them to follow her. The least she could do was offer them a moment or two of rest before they continued on their way. She led them to a small area that resembled living quarters. Martha carried her heavy pack over her shoulder and dropped it on the floor next to a chair, which she gratefully sat in. Tom sat next to her, watching Professor Docherty fill a glass of water for each of them. "It's actually drinkable?"

She nodded to Tom. "Amazingly." She handed him his glass and he downed it in one go. Martha did the same to her own, thanking the older woman. Professor Docherty cleared her throat. "I think it's time we had the truth, Miss Jones. The legend says you've traveled the world to find a way of killing the Doctor. Tell us, is it true?"

Martha handed her empty glass back to the Professor. "The Doctor and the Master, they've been coming to Earth for years. And they've been watched," she said, pulling her pack into her lap and rummaging through it. "There's UNIT and Torchwood, all studying Time Lords in secret. And they made this. The ultimate defense." She pulled out an immaculate black case, something that she had obviously taken good care of. She pulled the lid open and produced a gun with four prongs sticking from the top.

Tom eyed the gun skeptically. "All you need to do is get close. I can shoot the Doctor dead with this," he said, raising his own gun, the one he had used to kill the Toclafane.

"Actually, you can put that down now, thank you very much," Professor Docherty replied, putting her hand on his to force him to lower the weapon.

"Point is, it's not so easy to kill a Time Lord," Martha explained. "They can regenerate; literally bring themselves back to life when they die."

"Ah, the Doctor's immortal. Wonderful."

Martha shook her head. "There's a limit on the number of time they can, but we have no idea of knowing what number the Doctor is on. That's why we have this," she said, holding up the gun that now had three different colored vials attached to it. "Four chemicals, slotted into the gun. Just inject him... Kills a Time Lord permanently."

"Four chemicals?" Tom asked. "You've only got three."

"Still need the last one," she explained quickly. "The components of this gun were kept safe, scattered across the world. And I found them. San Diego, Beijing, Budapest and London."

"Then... Where is it?"

"There's an old UNIT base in north London. I've found the access codes. I need you to get me there, Tom."

Tom nodded and watched as she packed the gun away. "We can't go across London in the dark," he said. "It's full of wild dogs; we'd get eaten alive. We can wait till the morning, then go with the medical convoy."

"You can spend the night here, if you like," Docherty offered.

Tom shook his head. "No, we can get halfway, stay at the slave quarters in Bexley. Professor, thank you." He reached out to shake her hand and she took it with just the slightest hesitation.

"Good luck, both of you," she replied, dropping Tom's hand.

"Thank you," Martha said, kissing the Professor on the cheek. She and Tom turned away, but Professor Docherty's voice stopped them.

"Martha, could you really kill him?"

She turned with a sad smile on her face. "Got no choice."

"You're a lot of things," she said. "But you don't look like a killer to me." Martha's eyes softened, but she said nothing as Tom followed her out of the lab and back to the truck.

xxxxxxxxxx

Two hours later, Tom and Martha were creeping along a row of houses, hiding in the foliage and shadows. Tom led her to a door on their right, past several guards who seemed to see only him. Not for the first time, he wanted one of those special keys that Martha had. He knocked softly on the door. "Open up. It's me, Milligan."

The door opened a crack to verify his identity, then flew open and in less time than Martha could breathe once, they were inside, in a sea of bodies and faces piled on the stairs. The faces of the people had deep lines carved in them, lines made by sorrow and seclusion. She sighed softly.

Immediately, Tom was assailed with questions, the most abundant of them being, "Did you bring any food?"

"I couldn't get any," he replied sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm starving too."

"All we've got is water," one woman said. He nodded, but refused when she offered him some. They needed it more than he did.

"It's cheaper than building barracks. Pack them in, 100 in each house, ferry them off to the shipyards every morning," Tom said. His voice was bitter and filled with contempt.

One of the teenage boys was watching Martha curiously, trying to recall something in the back of his mind. "Are you Martha Jones?"

Martha turned from her whispered conversation with Tom about how to get these people some food. "Yeah, that's me."

The boy's eyes went wide. "They tell us you can kill him. That you and you alone can kill the Doctor. Can you? Really? Is it true?"

One of the women in the back piped up. "Who _is_ the Doctor?"

And suddenly every voice in the room was speaking, both to her and to one another. Tom managed to get them all to settle down. "Come on, just leave her alone. She's exhausted."

"No," Martha shook her head at him. "They want me to talk. It's okay, I'll talk."

xxxxxxxxxx

In the lab of Professor Docherty, the woman was pacing around the table that had her latest failed experiment laying on top of it. She bit her fingernails to the nubs, then gave up and walked to the back of the lab, pulling a curtain away to reveal a working computer with the Archangel Network symbol on it. She cleared her throat. "Access Priority One. This is Professor Alison Docherty."

"State your intent," the computer said in its robotic voice.

"First of all," she said irritatedly. "I need to know about my son."

"State your intent."

"Is my son alive?" James Docherty had been taken to a shipyard in another country. She didn't know which, but her thoughts had become darker by the day.

"State your intent."

She huffed at the computer's lack of cooperation. She hadn't expected it to give her anything of use, but she had hoped... She sighed softly. "I have some information for the Doctor concerning Martha Jones."

xxxxxxxxxx

Martha sat on the stairs with the people crowded around her, like children around a campfire waiting for a scary story. "I've traveled across the world, from the ruins of New York to the fusion mills of China, right across the radiation pits of Europe. And everywhere I went, I saw people just like you, living as slaves. But if Martha Jones became a legend, then that's wrong because my name isn't important. There's someone else. The man who sent me out there. The man who told me to walk the Earth. His name is the Master. He has saved your lives so many times and you never even knew he was there. I know it doesn't seem like he's doing a proper job right now, but just you wait. I've traveled with him. I know what he can do."

A sudden hum reverberated through the air, like a tuning fork struck against metal. One of the women at the bottom of the stairs dared to look through the mail slot in the door and gasped. "Oh my God, it's him! It's the Doctor!" Martha quickly stood from the stairs, Tom's half-asleep form suddenly wide awake.

"He never comes here! He never walks upon the ground!"

"Hide her!" The woman on the floor hissed, grabbing a tarp from the floor next to her and throwing it over Martha. The earthwalker crouched on the stairs, surrounded by the slaves and listened to the Doctor outside, yelling her name.

"Oh Martha!" He said, tone high-pitched and feminine. Mocking. "Martha Jones!"

"He walks among us," the teenage boy said in wonder.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" The Doctor paused, listening to the faint whirring of the Toclafane that were floating just feet above him. "Come out, or I blow this entire block sky high." Nothing. He frowned. "What would your precious Master do?"

Martha swallowed and threw the tarp off. The slaves around her begged her to stay, but she shook her head. "I can't let you all get killed. He wants me, not you." She descended the stairs, taking off the TARDIS key. She smiled sadly at Tom as a goodbye, then opened the door and stepped out into the darkness.

The Doctor's acute ears honed in on the squeaky door. "Oh ho! So there you are. How clever," he said, tone patronizing. "Give me the bag." Martha paused, then took a step toward him. "No, no, just throw it on the ground." She sighed softly, then shrugged off the bag and threw it at him. It landed a few feet in front of him and he promptly destroyed the gun with his laser screwdriver. She hated that sound.

"There," he said confidently. "And now, your work here is done." He raised the laser screwdriver to kill her, but a loud noise from the door behind her caught his attention. A man raced out into the street, gun raised.

"No!" Tom lifted his gun and put pressure on the trigger, but he felt the pulse of the laser screwdriver pierce his heart before he could fire. He fell over dead and Martha, who had no time to react, gasped and knelt at his side.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, closing his dead eyes.

The Doctor made a sound very much like a _tsk_. "How cute. But you know... I think the Master should be witness to your death. What do you think?" He slipped his hands in his pockets, bouncing on the soles of his feet, looking very pleased with himself. His brown eyes sparkled even in the dim light. "Almost dawn, Martha. Planet Earth marches to war."


	18. Alone

Hello everyone. I'm sorry about the huge break, lots of bad things happened and then I got distracted with another story. But never mind all that, here we go! The end of "Last of the Time Lords". Hope you all like!

**Warning****:** Character death.

* * *

"Citizens of the Earth, rejoice and observe."

Martha glanced from side to side at the guards that were roughly escorting her to the Doctor on the flight deck of the _Valiant_. She glimpsed her parents and Tish, standing to the side and watching her in wonder. She gave the three of them a warm smile; she knew that she would be back some day and that the Doctor would pay for what he did to planet Earth and its people. They had never lost their faith in her either.

"Your vortex manipulator, in case you thought I'd forgotten," the Doctor said coldly, staring down at the dark skinned woman from his perch on the deck. Martha slowly loosened the straps around her wrist and tossed the device up to him. She dared a glance in the Master's direction, and her eyes softened as he gazed back at her from his birdcage. He looked ghastly and sick, blinking slowly. "Kneel, Miss Martha Jones."

Martha barely heard him, but complied without a word. The Doctor, who had just tossed the vortex manipulator aside, looked giddy with excitement, his mouth stretched in a broad grin. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his blue suit, pacing back and forth across the deck. "Down below, two hundred thousand ships are ready to launch. Ready to force the universe under my control." He almost skipped to the communication device on the deck. "Are we ready?"

A male voice floated from the other end of the intercom. Martha didn't recognise it; she almost expected to with the number of people she had encountered during her one year trek across the planet. "The fleet awaits your command, Doctor."

"Three minutes to align the black hole converters. Counting down!" A timer on the deck to Martha's left blazed into life, counting down exactly three minutes. She could see the Master out of the corner of her eye, standing in his cage and grasping the bars with old hands. "At zero," the Doctor announced, bringing Martha's attention back to him. "To commemorate this day, the child Martha Jones will die. Any last words, Miss Martha? No?"

Martha simply stared up at him with an impassive look. He frowned. "Such a disappointment, this one," the Doctor continued. "So many companions you've taken with you, Master. I've never seen one so useless." He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his laser screwdriver. "Bow your head, Martha Jones." He watched as she followed his command, then cleared his throat. "And so, in mere moments, the child that walked the Earth will-" He stopped, as he saw a smile spread over the dark-skinned woman's face. "What? What's so funny?"

Martha raised her head and the smile spread further over her features at the Doctor's confused expression. "A gun."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"A gun in four parts." It took all her effort to keep her smile from turning into a smirk.

"Yes, I destroyed it, in case you don't remember."

"A gun," she continued. "A gun in four parts, scattered across the world. Did you _actually_ believe that?"

The Doctor's face blanched. Martha saw a barely perceptible change in his countenance; she was fairly certain that he was scared. "What do you mean?" The guards in the back of the room shifted their weight uncomfortably. Jack, who had been in the back of the room since the exchange started, was watching carefully, ready to bolt if the Doctor did anything to hurt Martha. The shackles around his wrists rattled with every small movement.

The Master spoke then, voice quiet and rasping. "Martha would never kill anyone."

The Doctor frowned, then spoke. "It doesn't matter now. I have her precisely where I want her."

"I knew what Professor Docherty would do," Martha continued on, ignoring him. "The Resistance knew about her son. I told her about the gun, to get me here at the right time."

"It doesn't matter," the Doctor said, glaring down at her from his perch on the deck. "You're still going to die."

"Don't you want to know what I was doing?" she asked him. "Travelling the world for a year?"

The Doctor almost sighed. "Tell me."

"I told a story. That's all. No weapons, just words. I did what the Master asked. I walked the Earth and everywhere I went, I told a story. I told them about the Master. And I told them to pass it on, to spread the word so everyone would know about him."

The Doctor's face spread in a grin. "Faith and hope? Is that it?"

"No," she said defiantly. "Because I gave them an instruction, just like the Master asked me to. I told them that if they think of one word at one specific time-"

"Nothing will happen! Prayer is no weapon!" The Doctor slammed a hand on the railing beside him.

"Right across the world, one word. Just one word, one thought at one moment... But with fifteen satellites!"

The Doctor's face lost what little color it still had. To Martha, it looked like he has seen a ghost. Or worse. "What?"

"A telepathic field binding the entire human race together, with all of them thinking the same word at the same time, and that word is Master."

The countdown behind the Doctor hit zero. Martha turned her gaze to the Master, whose body had suddenly taken on a warm, golden glow. The Doctor's eyes widened and his gaze turned from the Master to Martha, teeth gritted in rage. He screamed. "No!"

Jack watched from the back of the room as the twisted Time Lord raised his hand and shot Martha with the screwdriver. Her body fell like a sack of potatoes, limp and lifeless, onto the floor with a dull thud.

A howl of rage erupted from Martha's father as Tish and her mother screamed. The man rushed at the Doctor with all the force of a charging bull, but Jack got there first. He fell dead to the floor as the Doctor tried to keep the two men away from him.

The Master quickly disarmed his Time Lord counterpart, much to the Doctor's chagrin, preventing him from turning the laser screwdriver on Martha's father. He rose, glowing and golden above the humans that dotted the deck of the _Valiant_. The Doctor scrambled on the floor for his laser screwdriver, but found that it no longer worked. He glared at the Master and tossed the device aside like a broken toy.

The Master glared down at the other Time Lord as his body reversed its intense aging, and he returned to his normal self. He gently touched down on the floor and the guards in the room were immediately at his command. They quickly surrounded the now-deposed lord of planet Earth. The Master frowned angrily. "You killed Martha."

The Doctor scrambled across the smooth surface of the floor for the vortex manipulator that he had tossed away, but the Master got there first. Jack's sudden gasp of air reached the Master's ears and he chanced a glance in the immortal's direction, tossing the device to him. "Jack, get Martha's family out of here!" The Doctor glared up at him in hatred as Jack did as he was asked. Jack and the Jones family quickly disappeared in a flash of light, Martha's still body going with them.

The soldiers around the two Time Lords were anxious and tense. They climbed the stairs quickly, encompassing the feared Doctor, who was glaring at the Master like a murderous child.

"Every day you asked me why I kept stopping you," said the Master finally. "I thought it was because I had to. But now I know that it's because I wanted to." The light in the Doctor's eyes shifted ever so slightly, and the Master knew he was listening. "You traipse around the universe, insisting on bringing life when all that follows you is death. Stopping you isn't my job, but I will always do it to the best of my ability." The Doctor wasn't satisfied with that answer from the expression on his face.

At that moment, Jack appeared on the deck again, Martha's mother Francine clinging to his arm. The Master furrowed his eyebrows. "I thought I told you to get her somewhere safe?"

"She refused to go," Jack said with a shrug. He reached toward one of the guards and the man promptly handed him his gun. "Up there, on the deck! You two men, with me!" The guards quickly followed Jack, who was intent on freeing the TARDIS from its imprisonment as a paradox machine. The Master nodded to Jack gratefully before the immortal left.

Francine ascended the steps just as the Toclafane were descending, intent on protecting the paradox. She approached the Doctor with all the hatred of the universe in her eyes. "You killed my daughter."

The Doctor grinned. "Oops."

Francine swiftly reached toward one of the guards at her left and grabbed his handgun from his belt, turning it on the insane Time Lord. The Doctor did not seem afraid. The Master started at her sudden movement. "Francine, put the gun down..."

"He killed Martha," she replied, as if that was the only reason she would ever need.

"I know he did," the Master said soothingly. "But I need you to put the gun down. You're better than him, Francine..."

He reached a hand toward it, but the entire _Valiant_ suddenly shook and rumbled with a great force. The Master grabbed Francine just in time for everyone on the deck to be tossed about like a salad. Francine screamed. "What's going on?"

The Master managed to latch onto a piece of the railing to keep them steady. "It's the paradox! Jack broke it! We're reverting back!"

Time flowed backward and the Earth was restored to the time just before the Doctor had taken the planet over. The guards jumped up from their places on the floor, confused. Lucy sat like a ragdoll next to the double doors at the side of the room. Francine quickly regained her composure and started after the Doctor, only to realise that her gun had been flung across the room toward Lucy. The Doctor scrambled down the stairs, coming face to face with several guards who surrounded him quickly. He frowned.

The Master and Francine descended the stairs and the Master heard a voice over the radio ask about President Winters assassination. He could have grinned like a schoolboy. Everything had been reverted except for the eye of the storm, here on the _Valiant_. Jack and the guards that had gone with him finally returned, giving the Master a salute.

The Master stood next to the Doctor, who was glaring at him in hatred. "What are you going to do with me now, hm?"

The Master pretended to consider his options. "I suppose I could throw you into a supernova." The Doctor turned two shades paler, but the Master just smiled. "I guess I'll have to keep you. Like a pet. That sounds familiar."

From the corner of the Master's eye, he saw Lucy rise from the floor, gun poised in her delicate hand. His eyes widened in terror and he yelled, "No!"

But Lucy did not listen. She pulled the trigger the bullet buried itself in her husband's side. The Doctor gasped in pain and fell to the floor, followed quickly by the Master who knelt at his side. "Now look what you did, eh? She shot you, now you have to regenerate again. You go through these faster than I do," the Master said quickly.

The Doctor gave him a painful smile. "No."

"No? No what?"

"I won't regenerate. I refuse."

"What? What do you mean you refuse? You have to regenerate, you can't just die!"

"You'd rather me become your pet," the Doctor said, voice strained. "I won't live like that. I refuse."

The Master frowned angrily. "Just regenerate, I know you've got at least one left!"

"I refuse," the Doctor grinned. "Defiance of the highest degree, Master. And so, I win." The Time Lord's eyes closed for the last time and he fell still like the red grass of Gallifrey.

The Master said nothing, only gathered up his former friend's body and took it to the TARDIS.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Master had been pleased to find that Martha was brought back to life as a result of being away from the eye of the storm when Jack destroyed the paradox machine. She was currently at home with her parents, trying to decide why her mother suddenly looked so very old. She remembered nothing of the amazing things that she had done, walking the Earth for a year. But then again, no one else remembered either. No one but himself, Jack, Francine, Lucy, and the handful of guards that had been on the _Valiant._ He let his mind drift back briefly to the night before, when he burned the Doctor's body on a funeral pyre. Jack stood next to him, looking out over a bay in Cardiff. The Captain oh-so rudely interrupted his thoughts.

"It's strange, having almost no one remember."

The Master nodded. "It's for the best. They shouldn't have to remember that."

Jack nodded in agreement, then turned away.

The Master looked after him, eyebrow raised. "Where do you think you're going?"

Jack looked back at the Time Lord. "I have a team to take care of. They'll be missing me by now."

"Are you sure? You could always come with me," the Master spread his arms in a grand gesture, which made Jack chuckle.

The immortal shook his head. "I have a team and a responsibility to that team. I can't just disappear into time and space. Not again, anyway."

The Master nodded, pleased with Jack's reply. "Defending the Earth. Good! Less for me to do, eh?"

Jack grinned and the two men made to shake hands goodbye, but the Master flipped Jack's arm over to expose his vortex manipulator. "What- Hey! I need that!" Jack protested as the Master took out the sonic screwdriver and disabled the device completely.

"I can't have you teleporting all around time and space. You're bound to cause a paradox somewhere." He put the screwdriver away, much to Jack's dismay.

"Well, what about me? Will I ever be able to die?" he asked. "And I keep aging. Slowly, but I keep aging. Gray hairs and all that, you know?"

"I honestly have no clue Jack. I can't fix you. I'm sorry."

Jack shook his head. "It's alright. Vanity, I can't really help it. I used to be a poster boy back in the day, when I was a kid on the Boeshane Peninsula. I was the first one to ever be signed up for the Time Agency. Everyone was so proud. The Face of Boe they called me."

The Master blinked, then let out a single, loud laugh. "An interesting name. You could use that for an alias."

Jack thought a moment. "Yeah I could. Maybe when I'm old, doesn't sound good enough for this gorgeous face," he said with a grin.

The Master shook his head at the man, waving goodbye as he walked away.

xxxxxxxxxx

The TARDIS appeared in front of Martha's parents' house and the woman quickly came outside, jogging across the street to the time machine. She unlocked the doors for herself and walked inside, spotting the Master leaning against the console. "Well hello, Miss Martha Jones. Ready to go?"

Martha paused, then slowly made her way up the ramp. "Thing is, I'm not going."

The Master's grin was immediately replaced by a frown. "Oh. I see."

"Not that I don't want to," she added hurriedly. "It's just that... There's something up with mum. No one knows what it is, but she seems... Haunted. That's the best word I can think of. She's haunted by something. I can't leave her like that. And I've spent years trying to become a... doctor. A proper one. It's about time I accomplished that."

The Master nodded in acknowledgement. "If that's what you want," he replied.

"It's more what I need," she said, finishing the climb to the top of the ramp. She reached into her pocket and drew out a cell phone, handing it to him. "This won't be the last you see of me, though. Whenever that rings, you come running. Got it?"

The Master grinned and pocketed the device. "Got it." He quite liked Martha. She was a strong person.

She stepped forward and gave the Time Lord a peck on the cheek, to which he became extremely embarrassed. She almost laughed. "Thank you, for everything."

He nodded numbly, then retreated to the safety of the TARDIS console. They waved goodbye to one another and Martha stepped from the time machine, intent on reaching her goals.

The Master set the TARDIS off into the time vortex with a heavy heart and a turbulent mind, intent on finding an interesting place to go.

* * *

Whew. Finally done! The next chapter is one I've been excited to write for a while.

What? You didn't think that was the end, did you? Not a chance. We're off to The End of Time!


	19. Donna

Here we go, another chapter! I didn't want to skip forward to "The End of Time" and completely ignore the time the Master would have spent with Donna, so this chapter is all about that. Hope you all like it!

* * *

_"What are you doing here?"_

_ "Looking for __you!"_

The time he spent with Donna Noble was enlightening, to say the least.

That day at the Adipose Headquarters would have seemed so much more comical had they not been running for their lives. They bounced sarcastic comments off one another as if they'd never been apart. _"You are __**such**__ a Martian!" "Yeah well, at least I don't look like one." _The Master silently thanked whatever had possessed her to go looking for trouble in the first place; that second necklace had saved millions of people. They watched the Adipose fly away and he awkwardly comforted her upon the death of the Matron. He never was good with those sorts of things, but Donna didn't seem to care.

Pompeii opened his eyes to what exactly Donna Noble was. She had a fire in her that was so compassionate, it was beautiful and almost sickening to him at the same time. The way she looked at Evelina wasn't pity like he'd expect from most humans; it was almost understanding, being forced to do something you'd rather not. Humans would get themselves into those kinds of situations, wouldn't they? She helped him destroy Pompeii, taking that burden on her shoulders, a burden that only a Time Lord should bear. Perhaps she was a bit Time Lord, on the inside. And as humans went, she wasn't bad looking on the outside too, though he'd slit his own throat before he told her so.

Their trip to the Oodsphere has been an interesting experience. Infiltrating the compound had been easy after finding the dead Ood in the snow. The enslaved Ood had infuriated them both, but Donna had been surprised at how genuinely angry the Master became over the situation. The Red-Eye frightened her, but she never treated the Ood as though they were inferior beings. Did wanting to get rid of the Oodsong make her weak? He didn't think so; he wanted to get rid of it too. Upon freeing the oppressed Ood, they praised both the Master and Donna, singing songs of them both as they flew away.

The call from Martha had been surprising and welcome. Bringing them back to Earth had been a less than pleasant reunion, with the Sontarans and all, but nothing could be done about that. Donna had demonstrated her temp skills once again, helping them discover the truth about the factory workers. He would never admit to himself that he had been sad when he mistook her visit home as a permanent leave, but rubbed the bruise on his arm with a grin afterward. After saving Wilfred from his murderous car, the Master paid a visit to the teen in charge of the ATMOS devices, supplying snarky comments the entire way. The Sontarans had been rather upset at their discovery, but soon covered the entire planet in gas that would kill all of humanity. Luke sacrificed his life to save the human race, a move unpredicted by the Master. Still, the boy had planned it all to begin with. Donna hit him a second time, in the same spot, and this time he complained rather loudly.

Messaline would have been his last choice for a place to land. The TARDIS had kidnapped Martha, much to her intense dismay, and deposited them in catacombs full of war. They were separated shortly after landing and the Master's genes were stripped from him, creating a new human being. The girl, because he couldn't see her as anything more than a girl despite her physical appearance, was ginger and for some reason this annoyed him greatly. Donna promptly named her Jenny and not twenty minutes later, they were all locked away in a cell together. The Master refused to acknowledge Jenny's comments about him being a soldier. In a way, he supposed he was. A soldier for freedom, perhaps. That didn't sound so bad, did it? After breaking out of the cell and finding the source, Jenny died saving him. Though he dropped the gun from General Cobb's head, he desperately wanted to pull the trigger. He hadn't taken the best shine to Jenny at the beginning, but she hadn't deserved that. The TARDIS took Martha home. Donna and the Master flew to a planet that neither of them had visited before, in honor of that girl who died protecting the new society that would flourish on Messaline. Donna saw a softer side of the Master that she found herself taking quite a shine to.

Their visit to Agatha Christie had turned up rather buggy, a pun that Donna rolled her eyes at when it was made by her Time Lord companion. He only laughed and ran off after the Vespiform. Though it didn't necessarily sound bad in his head, he was getting tired of insisting that they weren't a couple. After a couple of deaths, the puns and jokes didn't seem quite so important anymore. Miss Agatha Christie had been a valuable asset in the discovery of what exactly had been going on in the odd house. Her own mystery had been solved and her life went on, a strange acceptance of her circumstances that she never quite understood. Donna found herself quite liking the idea of helping the Master detox more often.

The Library had been a sobering experience for the both of them. Staying out of the shadows had been the least of their problems when Donna got sucked into the computer and the Master ran into River. Donna suddenly had a husband who adored her and a family, a real life. Doctor Moon insisted that the Master never existed and she accepted this without a second thought. The Master fought to keep everyone alive amidst the shifting shadows of the Library. River, though she whispered his name in his ear, annoyed him. She was intelligent and certainly useful, but she acted haughty and teasing, never telling him what he wanted to know. Frankly, it was annoying. She must mean something to him later, but there was no time to contemplate that now when there were 4,023 people to save. When she handcuffed him, he could have screamed. It was his job to save the universe, not some woman he'd just met. He insisted time could be re-written and she looked ready to hit him. River died and he wasn't honestly sure what to make of it. She was obviously important to him, there was no mistaking that, but _how_ important? Certainly important enough to save one last time. Donna deserved a vacation after all of his heartbreak. He realised with a pang in his twin hearts that her dream husband had been the complete opposite of him. How about that?

The planet Midnight turned into a nightmare. He had begged her to come with him, to get her mind off of everything, but she insisted that she wanted to stay behind and relax. Afterwards, he briefly thought that she had been much safer doing so. Whatever creature had possessed Sky was something he really knew nothing about. The humans on the tour had devolved before his eyes, turning back into the apes that a certain other Time Lord always saw them as. He pleaded with the creature to release his voice, but it refused. Only the stewardess saw the truth and she died for it as a result. Donna's wordless hug when he returned told him she did care about him, most definitely, just not like _that_.

Their trip to Shan Shen turned into a whirlwind of unexpected things. They had been walking through the booths and stalls of the planet and Donna had just disappeared on him. He found her not too long afterward, babbling about a parallel world where he died and hugging him one too many times for them to be just friendly. He was inordinately pleased about this, until she told him those two little words that could destroy worlds. _"Bad Wolf." _The TARDIS's translation circuit went barmy, plastering those two words all over Shan Shen. The cloister bell rang, prompting them to lace their fingers together and run off to the time machine, intent on saving the universe from imminent destruction.

The universe had destiny arranged specifically for Donna Noble. The Earth was moved and Donna had been the one to mention the bees disappearing, along with the rest of the lost planets. The Master shot the Shadow Architect an irritating glare when she called Donna "just a human" that the ginger woman did not fail to see. The optimal arrangement of the planets clued the Master in on just who had been doing this and he had been right; Davros, who had been in the Time War, was trying to destroy the universe. Again. After escaping from the Shadow Proclamation, they followed the bees' signal to the Medusa Cascade, saved only by the ringing of a cell phone. Donna's "outer space Facebook" revealed the culprits to be the Daleks, the Master's worst fear. Davros' voice was just as annoying as it always had been. Landing on Earth had reunited the Master with Rose, but a Dalek's blaster caused the Time Lord to almost regenerate. He had to thank Jack afterward for taking such good care of his hand.

The Crucible, as the Daleks were calling it, was the testing place and source of their Reality Bomb, something that would rip through every universe in existence. The Master found himself face to face with hundreds of Daleks, including Dalek Caan, and Davros. The insane Dalek prophesied that one of the Children of Time would die. Just as he mentioned them, they all appeared at once. Screens in the Crucible popped up, displaying Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Mickey, Jackie, and Sarah Jane, all ready to sacrifice their lives for the universe. And his TARDIS, along with Donna, had been cast into the ship's engines, burnt up. He would have strangled Davros' stupid prawn neck if not for the cage surrounding him. _"You killed Donna, she had nothing to do with this!"_ But inside the ship, the Master's extra hand called to the ginger woman, and she answered with exactly what the universe needed. _"Half Time Lord, half human!"_

She stopped the Daleks, the Reality Bomb, and sent all of the planets in the sky back home where they belonged. The Master was a bit disconcerted with another him walking around, but ignored it for the time being. His other self was quite useful, when it came to fiddling with the Daleks' technology. Both he and his double had set to destroying the Daleks, knowing that they could not get away this time. Davros burned with his ship, refusing to take the Master's hand and escape. Everyone was returned home, including Rose to the alternate universe. Mickey had opted to stay behind with Jack and Martha, but Rose had parents and a younger brother to care about. She wanted to stay with the Master, but he refused. He knew she had feelings for him, but they were not mutual, much to her dismay. He left with his human twin and Donna, who had been chatting their ears off ever since her Time Lord brain kicked in.

The human Master knew what his Time Lord counterpart was going to have to do. He stood away from them in the console room, watching the exchange with pain in his eyes. The Master explained everything in soft words and Donna knew. _"I want to stay with you."_ The Time Lord took her face in his hands. _"You can't. You'll die. I can't let that happen." "But I can't go back!"_ He embraced her for the last time, running a hand through her hair. He kissed her before he convinced itself that it would be a bad idea. _"I love you." "I love you too, Martian."_ She turned to the human Master that was leaning against the TARDIS's wall, far across the room. _"Find me?" "Always."_ With tears streaming down her face, the Master erased her memory.

As her body fell unconscious, the Master turned to his human double. "You'll have to get Sarah Jane and Mr. Smith to create a whole life for you. Shouldn't be hard."

The human Master nodded. "I will. I'll take care of her."

"Don't find her too soon. It'll take a while for her mind to adjust," he replied quietly, kissing the ginger woman on the forehead. The two of them set the TARDIS for Chiswick, carrying Donna into her bedroom. They explained the situation to her mother and Wilfred, with the human Master adding that he- _they_ loved her, and he would be back soon to find her. _"Hopefully, she will come to __love me again someday."_

After leaving the Noble residence, the Master took his human counterpart to 13 Bannerman Road to set up his new life by way of Sarah Jane. The human Master said goodbye and the true Master set the TARDIS off into the vortex, not caring where she'd go.

xxxxxxxxxx

Four months later, Donna Noble sat at the front desk of a posh publishing company, typing away on the computer in front of her. Temping was at her roots and losing two years of her memory wouldn't stop that now. The storefront was made of glass windows and she spent some of her time watching the people walk by, wanting to be out of work when she was in and in work when she was out. Out of the corner of her eye, a man approached the desk, leaning against it casually. "Hello, can I- Sorry, do I know you?"

The man, who was wearing a pair of whitewashed jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black vest replied, "No, sorry. I don't think so. I get that a lot though, I guess I've just got one of those faces." He chuckled a bit. Donna noted his dark eyes and _great_ smile. He still seemed familiar somehow. Perhaps she was thinking of a celebrity. Yes, that must be it. She would have to look it up later.

"Sorry," she apologised sweetly. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Actually," he said, scratching his chin. "I noticed you from outside and I was wondering if you'd like to get a drink sometime?"


End file.
